


Morning Sun

by syredronning



Series: Draws [12]
Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Kinky, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-29
Updated: 2010-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/syredronning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Chris' breakdown, Leonard takes care of Chris, Jim takes care of Dael — at least, that's the general idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to "Shadowplay". It breaks most of the mold of the series (the POV, the game theme) and can therefore be considered as another interlude. The title is from the song "[Morning Sun](http://www.myvideo.de/watch/7324436/Robbie_Williams_Morning_Sun)" by Robbie Williams, if you don't know it, give it a try :)
> 
> Thanks for the wonderful beta and helpful comments go to shagungu, who also taught me about the 'resident optimist'! All remaining flaws are solely mine.

The bedroom is flooded with light that comes in through the half-closed curtains, as the sun slowly ventures from morning to midday position. Two men are on the bed, one awake, one asleep in the other's protective embrace. The house is deadly silent, except for the rhythmic, soothing background noise coming from the sea, gentle waves against the shore.

 _You're a goddamn idiot, and not worth your goddamn license,_ the sentinel mutters to himself. The expression on his clouded face says that he'd really like to throw something now, only he can't, because moving would mean disturbing the barely reached peace of his bed partner, the man he's here to care for and has failed spectacularly just three hours into his mission, making him almost relapse.

 _Keep everything predictable and clear._

 _Be careful, Leonard. Be really careful._

He should get Dael's words tattooed on his arm, maybe he might remember then that the man he'd returned to isn't exactly the man he'd said good-bye to all those months ago.

They'd get there again, though, if he'd any say in it.

With a sigh, he closes his eyes. With only two days on Earth which had been completely spent in debriefings, he hadn't had time yet for his own usual shoreleave breakdown (he should find a better word for it; it sounds damn wrong in comparison) which consists of sleeping for two days.

What better time to start than with Chris in his arm?

***

The stairways up to the palace are crowded with beings of all species in dress uniform and ball gowns, jewelry and medals sparkling in the fake candlelight that illuminates the curved, winding gala stairs. At first, nobody seems to register the new arrivals that descend from an unobtrusive cab, shining command gold not exactly rare at the annual Admiralty's Ball. It's only when the man laces his arm with the young woman next to him that the first guests look more closely at the couple, and a whisper travels up the stairways as the crowd parts for them.

Maybe their faces are a little too pale for what is supposed an exciting evening, a little too tense around the edges. Maybe the man's trademark, easy smile isn't as easy tonight, and as for his companion — barely anyone has ever really seen _her_ smile, and not just for the layers of makeup she wears tonight that give her the face of a porcelain doll, fitting to the green, Chinese silk coat buttoned up to her chin.

 _You really want to attend with her?_ Bones' question reverberates with every step Jim takes, his eyes daringly darting from one staring person to the other while he tightly holds onto his companion. _You're going to throw her to the sharks to keep up appearances?_

 _We're not pretending anything — we'll only show that we're still together, still a force to be reckoned with, all four of us._

And she'd agreed with his reasoning when he'd asked her upon her arrival.

Somewhere in the back of his head, Jim thinks as he steadies his breathing, it's almost amusing that he's approaching this ball with the same tension in his guts and coolness in his demeanor as he would a confrontation with Klingon warriors, but truth is that he'd _definitely_ rather take the warriors, and from Dael's look, she'd be right with him.

"Captain," a calm voice says next to him as they're halfway through the gauntlet, and a large weight is lifted from his shoulders as Spock joins his side, head tilted in a greeting gesture. "I am pleased to see you."

"Oh, yes. And what a lovely lady you've got at your side," Uhura says and smiles at his woman, the curious flicker in her eyes not tainting the accepting, heartfelt sound of her welcome.

"May I present — Dael, our partner," Jim says gracefully, for the first but by far not the last time tonight.

***

When Leonard opens his eyes, it's to midday light and Chris' grey-blue eyes dreamily resting on him. His lover lays close, head propped up on one elbow, his free hand lingering over Leonard's body without touching.

Without thinking, he reaches out to catch Chris' hand.

Chris blinks, then his lids drop closed for a moment. His at first limp hand curls, tightening around Leonard's.

"I'm real, I'm here," Leonard whispers.

There's a very small smile on Chris' lips as he opens his eyes again, taking a deep breath. "I know… there was just a part of me that still couldn't believe it and wondered whether you'd vanish if I touched you."

"Not going to vanish." Leonard pulls their joined hands to his lips for a kiss. "Not going anywhere."

Chris leans forward and they meet in a kiss, first tentatively exploring, then hot and deep, devouring each other's mouth.

"Damn, Chris," Leonard growls when they break apart, pulling him into a strong embrace and burying his face against his lover's neck. "I missed you so much."

"Missed you too," Chris says choked.

"Love you," Leonard whispers between nipping kisses along Chris' shoulder. His erection, strained to full size just from their brief contact, rubs along the leg Chris has half-thrown over his groin. Chris has buried one hand in his hair and, if the rolling hips are any indication, has the same idea.

There are so many things Leonard wants to do, so many things he'd dreamed about — and he _does_ have the collar in his bag — but he's extremely unsure whether it's good to jump into anything sexual just yet.

Because he's read every fucking report available to him, talked to anyone who could give him an opinion, and he's still not sure what exactly happened between Chris and Alain on that weekend before the stroke, if those reported cuts had been made in anything resembling a consensual situation. The fear of pushing Chris, whose mental state is really damn fragile, into some flashback is almost choking his libido. Torn between wanting to ask and wanting to stop, though, he wavers and the moment passes.

 _Fail by indecision_ , Leonard thinks before he groans deeply from Chris' lips on his cock. _This, so much_. Months of little sex, much sorrow culminate in a storm of arousal that sweeps over him, leaving him whimpering. He tries not to rock too hard into the welcoming mouth, tries to keep his hands away from the bowed head he can't stop looking at, which bobs up and down above his groin in absolute dedication. And he really tries to keep it slow, he doesn't just want…

 _…there, yes, please, sweet lord…  
_  
He comes thrashing and arching, calling out Chris' name, grabbing his lover's head and holding it down to ride out this beautiful, best orgasm ever.

At last depleted, he sags back onto the mattress, fighting for air. He only vaguely registers that Chris joins him when a gentle kiss descends on his mouth, a little sticky and tasting of his own cum. He sweeps his tongue over his lover's lips, licking them clean before delving deeper, more than sorry when they've got to come up for air.

"Oh, Chris…" he whispers, looking into those long-missed grey-blue eyes.

"Doc…" Chris smiles. It's almost his former smirk though there's something missing — the usual, wry distance between him and the object of his focus is gone. He's much less guarded, and that's exactly the part of the _more vulnerable_ that Leonard fears, because they'll be here together for weeks. He remembers how intense it's always been between them and he has no clue whether they'll manage to keep everything under control.

 _Whether I manage to keep myself under control_ , Leonard thinks with a groan, as just Chris' simple touch on his chest makes him want another ride.

"You're the death of me," he mutters, then instantly regrets that particular word choice. Chris only keeps smiling, though.

Suddenly decided, Leonard rolls them over so that Chris is on his back. He examines him, following every line with eyes, lips and hands, half professional assessment ( _damn occupational disease_ ), half his deep, personal need to see that the man he'd yearned for is, if not all right yet, at least well on the way to physical recovery. The muscles are leaner, the body slimmer, the hair greyer and some wrinkles deeper — but all in all, there's much less change than feared. Of course, he'd need to see Chris in action; his stance had looked a little unstable in the kitchen this morning but the shock could probably account for that…

"Stop thinking, doc," Chris says, running both hands down Leonard's upper arms. "Now that you've made sure I won't fall apart under your hands, do it."

"Do what?" Leonard asks, teasingly caressing the length of Chris's beautiful cock. It's not completely hard, and he remembers Dael's vague statement of last night that the two have had sex a few times but not really of the penetrative variety, so maybe this is just the status-quo and —

"Leonard…" Chris whispers, and Leonard would give a lot for an actual order but there's not a trace of that in his lover's words.

 _Well, then…  
_  
He goes down, wraps one hand around Chris' member and swallows it, rewarded with a deep groan from above and one tender hand on his sweaty hair. He gives due focus to the task at hand, running his lips up and down the hardening shaft, tonguing the slit once in a while, cradling the balls when he remembers to, in the haze of his own hormonal turmoil.

"Doc… Leonard…please —" Chris gasps at one point, tugging at his head.

Leonard lifts his head, more than pleased as he finds the erection in his hand as strong as ever, a little drop of precum among the wetness caused by his own mouth.

"What do you want, Chris?"

"Fuck me," Chris says, and Leonard finds himself in the quadrant of concern again, wondering whether penetrative sex is a recommended procedure right away.

Aside the fact that his own dick is barely at half-mast.

"Got a better idea." He reaches to the side to pick up a strategically placed bottle of lube, giving it to Chris before crouching higher. "I want to ride you, Chris. I want your hand in my ass to prepare me, and then I want to ride your cock."

"Not complaining," Chris rasps. "Though I'm not sure…" He gestures a little apologizing towards his groin.

"All in perfect working order," Leonard attests, and takes the fine piece into his hands once more to keep it warm and ready. He's a little smug that he seems to have been successful where Dael hasn't been, but given Chris' sexual orientation, he probably shouldn't ascribe it to his hot ass alone.

Similar thoughts seem to run through Chris' head for a moment, before his lover agrees. "Good." Chris uncaps the lube and coats his fingers.

With a sigh, Leonard lets go of his soon-to-be prize and scoots upwards, spreading his legs. When Chris reaches through them and dips one cautious finger into his ass, he can't help pressing down against it.

"We've got time," Chris whispers. "Right?" There's a flicker of insecurity in his gleaming eyes, among the arousal, and Leonard nods quickly.

"At least a month… oh, yes." Momentary hesitation gone, Chris seems to be on autopilot and _damn hell_ , he's always been great in bed but this is a new level as he makes Leonard ride four fingers and then some, spreading him wider than anyone had over the last months.

Just when Leonard is ready to beg for real, Chris sets him free. "Tell me what you had in mind, doc."

Hastily, Leonard moves downward. Chris' erection has flagged a little but he manages to stroke it back into full bloom under the heated gaze of his lover. "Want to ride you. Want to feel your cock in me, taking possession of me. Marking me with your come…" He says a lot of things, can't remember half of it after a second, only knows that he needs to sit down on Chris or he'll just come again, no matter that his own dick is still soft and a little out of blood because all of it has settled around his prostate, demanding little bugger.

He scoots forward and rises on his knees, letting Chris guide the head right into position.

 _I'm going to die any second, but at least with a smile on my face_ , Leonard thinks as he lowers his body, using his own weight to drive the cock up his ass. He whimpers as it hits bottom, not because it hurts or anything but because he wants so much more — deeper, larger, just more of Chris.

But then Chris rocks his hip a little and there is the _more_ that he'd needed, and with a groan he bends forward over his lover's chest, kissing small, perky nipples buried in grey curls.

"Move, please, move…" Chris whispers, and who's Leonard to deny that wish so he gets into gear and rocks up and down in slow, careful moves. Chris' eyes have turned to slits, but there's still blue flickering at him. He waits for more of Chris' classic hip rolls before he shakes his head over his stupidity; Chris just doesn't have the strength to fuck upwards into him against gravity and Leonard's considerable weight, so it's his job alone to make the ride a _RIDE_ , capital letters. Determined to meet his former acclamations, Leonard sets out to give Chris a great time with well-paced moves, driving them both a little insane when his body claims a break once in a while.

"Not getting any younger either," Leonard groans after the third time, his arms supporting his shaking body from crushing Chris.

"I've got problems coming," Chris mutters. "Took ages last time, felt really bad about it."

"We've got time," Leonard soothes him.

"Let's change position," Chris suggests. He directs him around until they're in a kind of scissor position. It makes a little more distance between them than Leonard prefers, but it's an interesting angle. Cradling his half-hard dick, he waits for Chris to find his entry again. His eyes drop close as the cock drives into him in one swift move.

"Do you like it?" Chris asks, reaching out to join in Leonard's stimulation. "Been one of my favorites in the past. Though mostly on the other side." He gently rocks forward into Leonard, and while it's definitely hot the friction is limited. Leonard doubts that it'll make Chris' orgasm any easier to reach, but who knows.

Determined he relaxes, turning his head so that he can meet Chris' eyes fully, melting under their intensity. Chris looks so happy and glowing; _hell_ , if that's the therapy he needs, Leonard is willing to give everything he has, any time.

"Love you so much," Chris says, his gaze suddenly a little dreamy again, and Leonard tilts his pelvis to increase their friction before his lover might question the reality of all of this.

"Love you too. Move, please…" He moans as Chris sets his body into motion, tiny little pushes and pulls that add up to a large, big _needtocomeNOW_ without reaching the top, and after a while, Leonard gives up and tries another position.

Chris rolls onto his back and punches the pillow into submission to support his head, then motions Leonard to sit down over him.

"Higher, doc," he directs him, and Leonard reluctantly complies, crouching so that he could feed his cock into Chris' mouth. By all rights, this should be one of the trigger positions but Chris looks relaxed, not a hint of psychological stress, so with one palm supportively against the wall, Leonard leans forward. Chris' hands reach around his ass to take hold, and then his dick gets swallowed to the hilt by that amazing mouth and Leonard stops thinking until the moment when the last of his sperm gets swallowed and his dick licked lean.

"Two orgasms…" he whimpers as he sinks down to the left of his lover, and it sounds strangely like a complaint. Chris grins.

The psychologist in Leonard demands a good answer as to how Chris can swallow dick like that again, but the man in him is drop dead tired and also self-conscious that Chris hasn't been satisfied yet. He lays a hand on the somewhat deflated organ.

"We've got time, you said," Chris says lazily, offering him an opt-out. "I really could use a cup of tea."

"You're not going to leave this bed before you're 100% satisfied," Leonard states, and starts stroking as Chris chuckles amusedly.

Half an hour later, they're both wiped from their orgasms and ready for another round of sleep, steadfast ignoring the beautiful day outside.

***

They make the first round together side by side, greeting officers and Federation officials, foes and friends alike. They assume their roles in this play, answering any inquiry about Chris with some noncommittal words, never saying too much. Nogura himself brings Dael a drink with a jovial smile, and she takes it with a face devoid of expression.

Jim can imagine what it costs her to keep herself under control, because he'd prefer nothing more than to throw that drink into the old man's face. But the way he'd had chosen to play this game is the one that brings better results than open warfare; a battle played by the rules of the Admiralty, with lists of broken regulations and overthrown board decisions, unreasonable orders and actions that were unbecoming to officers.

He knows exactly where he stands with most officers in the room. Some see him as a hero; some as a troublemaker whose actions, presumably based on personal revenge, weaken Starfleet. Many agree that Shaa had been the wrong choice but most think she should've been removed more quietly from her post, though nobody ever has a good suggestion how that should've been achieved with Nogura unwaveringly holding onto her as he'd done. Quite a few think that Chris had brought his problems onto himself and Jim shouldn't have felt compelled to clean up after him, relationship or not.

 _Don't get me wrong, Kirk — Pike has been a great man. Emphasis on has been, though. He's well over his zenith, and you'd be well advised to take precautions not to go down with him_ , one commodore had told him plainly just a day ago, and more than one colleague had suggested that Bones and he should get rid of those partnership entries in their files.

 _Like hell_ , he thinks, feeling his jaw tightening.

He looks over to Dael who's quietly talking to a young Andorian — must be Thelin, Jim gathers, one of Chris' former task force members. Bones had repeatedly reminded him that Dael had been almost as much of a recluse as Chris for the last months, and that the return to San Francisco, much less attending this major social event, would sorely tax her. She seems to be doing fine, though, considering that she's not exactly a _soul of the party_ kind of girl.

Taking his leave from the commander he'd been talking to, he tries to join Dael to take her to the small _Enterprise_ group that's gathering in a corner, but yet another ambassador corners Jim for information about Chris. Before tonight, he hadn't realized in which prominent circles their lover had socialized, and he wonders if they could make use of these connections when Chris comes back.

The next man that takes a hold on him is someone else he hadn't planned to speak with, but it's hard to escape Chris' former CMO who lengthily apologizes to him for not having noticed Pike's state, although he hadn't even been on Earth most of the time. Jim listens with a patient half-smile and his thoughts on something else until Boyce gets a little psychoanalytical.

"You might think he's without friends, but he isn't. He just never asks for help." Boyce looks decidedly annoyed. "He's got no problem handling a crew of 800 with a snap of his fingers, because that's in his job description. That's what he's been trained for, what he always wanted. One of the longest-serving captains, good guts, willing to risk his head for his people — he was great in that chair, although a little prone to leaps in logic. That's why he wanted Spock for the _Enterprise_." Boyce shakes his head. "But he's not an easy friend to make and keep, not at all. He's not good with relationships on eye level. He needs clear responsibilities and ranks, then all is fine. The many details of intimate, long-term relationships are a challenge for him, because he can't just issue an order — or follow one, for the matter. That's why Nogura had such a strong hold on him."

"You make him sound as if he can't decide on his own," Jim says a little sourly.

"Oh, he's fine with making decisions," Boyce hastens to clarify. "But he's not really one to question orders when he gets them, you know. Or question his own decisions, once made. He's got that iron core of self-denial that makes both for great victories and great disasters."

 _Thanks, we just had that_ , Jim thinks.

"I sometimes wondered about his family background…" Boyce levels his voice down, "but he's been always been very tight-lipped about it."

Boyce looks at him expectantly, but even if Jim knew it in depth — which he doesn't, because Bones had never shared the details of that particular discussion with Chris back then — he definitely wouldn't tell them to this nosy man.

"Commodore Decker is waving at me," Jim lies smoothly. "Please excuse me, Doctor." He walks away.

The funny thing, Jim ponders as he eases himself through the crowd towards Dael, is that Chris, despite often sounding and appearing like a clenched-ass-kind-of-guy, is also a man who breaks important regulations when he sees fit. He doubts that any other officer would've chosen a whipping session in a dungeon, of all things, as punishment for Bones' and his serious fuck-up back then. And that had been before the _Narada_ , before anyone could claim that maybe Chris wasn't working on all thrusters ever since.

It seems that Chris' inappropriate liaison as cadet with that instructor at the academy, a relationship which Jim had taken lightly when first hearing about it, had really left a deep impression and become a kind of blue print for his more deviant actions. In certain sexually charged moments, Chris is absolutely able to disregard both normal morals and rules of conduct, and it's probably only due to Chris' generally strong sense of privacy and distance from the people around him that this dangerous tendency hadn't impacted his reputation and career much earlier.

Starting their relationship had unleashed the beast, kind of — _no, that's stupid_ , Jim berates himself. For all Jim knows, Bones' influence had changed Chris' mind on his action back then, and Chris didn't start anything with anyone at the academy but Dael. And Dael is able to make her own decisions, now more than ever, and she hadn't been pressured into anything — despite Esteban's fucking insulting ideas.

Getting himself a drink from the tray of a waiter, he looks for Dael, but she's vanished in the crowd.

***

It's maybe an hour later when Leonard wakes up again, and while staying in bed curled around Chris is a fabulous thing, he also needs to go to the bathroom and then find something to drink and preferably eat — he couldn't even remember his last meal.

A brief shower later, he's ready to check the kitchen, deciding that scrambled eggs and bacon would be the perfect thing to start the day. Soon, a delicious smell fills the house, and Leonard is a little surprised that it doesn't lure Chris into the kitchen. Putting the pan aside, he goes to the bedroom.

Chris lies on his stomach, one arm stretched out towards the empty left side of the bed as if trying to find someone there.

 _And of course he is_ , Leonard thinks with an eyeroll at himself. Carefully he stretches out, covering the lonely hand with his left. Chris' lids flicker.

"Good morning, lover," he says with a smile. "Brunch is ready. Some protein for your body and soul." He runs his fingers up Chris' arm up to the shoulder blade, eliciting a soft sigh from the sleeper. He keeps the motion for a while, and when he stops, Chris mutters, "More, please."

Changing position and grabbing a bottle of oil that's conveniently placed on the nightstand, Leonard kneels up and gives Chris a serious massage, devoting himself to every muscle in his back and down his calves. It has quite an effect, both on Chris' relaxation and on his own arousal, running his hands over that ass down those lightly spread legs…

"Please, doc…" Chris whispers, lifting his pelvis into his touch.

His hands already slick and oiled, Leonard slips a single finger down Chris' crack, his thoughts running. He still isn't without misgivings, but they'd have to do it eventually or Chris would ask him about his hesitation, and he can't really answer without suggesting something bad had happened, which might well start the whole avalanche… if there was one.

Gnawing at his bottom lip, he tentatively caresses the ring muscle. He really wishes Jim were here to push him a little, he thinks wryly, and then slowly glides inside.

Chris grunts, hands curling into the sheets, legs tensing and pressing back at Leonard. "Oh yes. Missed this."

In a way, it's beautiful and perfect; having Chris stretched out and suppliant to his touch had been one of Leonard's favorite images to jerk off to. But it had always included a power game between them, a struggle of wills, and that's something he can't get from Chris right now. He can imagine it, though, imagine that Chris lies that willingly because he's ordered to, or tied up, or…

 _Dammit.  
_  
Tearing himself back to the here and now, Leonard focuses back on his lover and fists him open to three fingers, which takes longer than ever. Obviously, Dael and Chris really hadn't done anything like this. It makes him cautious again, going back to massage and kisses along Chris' lower back and ass, despite his dick being very demanding by now.

Chris groans in frustration. "Don't stop, doc. You know what I want."

Leonard kneels over him on all fours, hands spread out left and right on the mat. "What do you want? Ask me for it."

"I want to feel your body on mine… want to feel you inside of me." Turning his head, he questioningly looks at Leonard. "Or is anything wrong with me, that you can't do that?"

"Oh no, everything's all right," Leonard replies quickly, dipping two fingers back into the stretched hole. "Just wanted to make you beg," he says lightly.

There's no answer to that aside from a deep sigh, and he gives in. Pulling Chris' hips slightly up with two hands, he angles for penetration and slips in without effort.

 _I'm so not going to last,_ he thinks as he almost comes from this simple act, and stops once more, arms trembling from the effort. Chris lies so silent — inactive, kind of, and it keeps making him nervous. Cautiously, Leonard starts rocking into his lover, and this at last makes Chris whimper and answer his moves more physically. Not wanting to overdo anything, Leonard doesn't keep his orgasm from spiking quickly, then sucks off Chris, more than happy when the goal is accomplished soon.

Their kissing afterwards is long, sticky, and more of a mouthfuck, as if they can't get enough of each other… and this, Leonard reflects with his hands glued to Chris' body in happy bliss, is exactly the unsolved problem.

***

For a while, Jim assumes Dael's gone to the restrooms or engaged in talking with someone, but when she's gone for longer than half an hour, he actively starts searching for her. His communication officer stands nearby, chatting with a friend, and he politely pries her away.

"Uhura, have you seen Dael lately?"

"I think she was dancing not so long ago," Uhura says, tilting her head towards the dance floor.

"Dancing?" Not exactly Dael's favorite activity, as Jim recalls from the one time they'd tried in the middle of the living room, a little tipsy from champagne — a sweet memory of the four of them together on the night after the photoshoot.

He quickly shakes it off as Uhura adds, "Yes, she was dancing with one of the ambassadors, I think."

"Thanks," he says and heads off in concern, searching for another moment before he finds Dael seated in the very back of the table space, someone near her. When he draws close, the person gets up and readies to leave.

"Sp — Selek!" Jim exclaims as he recognizes the old Vulcan. "I didn't know you were here." His gaze flickers between them in an unvoiced question. "I see you've met my partner, Dael."

"I did, and it was a pleasure to speak to the person who is so important to Admiral Pike's well-being." Spock tilts his head. "Captain, t'sai Dael — I need to take my leave. Please relate my best wishes for a swift recovery to the admiral, or the doctor in his stead."

"Please, Selek, can't you stay for a while?" Jim asks urgently, his hand hovering over the Vulcan's arm without actually touching it. "I'd really love to talk to you about a few things. It's been a long time — I was concerned about you."

"This is not the time and place for this," Spock says, the crinkles around his eyes softening marginally. "We will meet again."

Jim helplessly watches him leave, then turns his focus towards Dael. She looks pale and tired, a glass of light-blue juice in her hands.

"What did he want?" he asks as he sits down in front of her.

Dael looks at him. "He inquired about Christopher's state, and I told him because I remember he's a friend of his. I hope it was all right?"

"Yes, absolutely."

She searches his eyes. "You know him too?"

"Yes. He's an old friend… a very old friend," Jim says a little evasively, as he suddenly realizes that she isn't privy to the information that Selek is actually Spock from another timeline, and he's not sure how much she's allowed to know here. "That's all you talked about?"

"Mostly. He'd asked me to dance with him but I didn't feel well so he led me here and brought me some Andorian _chasvas_." She worries her bottom lip.

"What else?"

"He… seems to know where I have been," she says slowly. "This is supposed to be highly secret, and it disturbs me."

"Ah." Jim inhales. "He's a very influential man with many connections, especially concerning the Romulan Empire, but he's never a security risk. So don't worry about him."

She frowns but even for this, her energy seems to be lacking, her lids half closed.

He takes the glass out of her hands. "What do you think — we could leave this place, now that we've made our point, and do something better with the evening." He's got plans for them and is itching to see them through.

"Yes, please."

It feels as if everyone's eyes follow them as they walk through the room and out into the smaller hall, taking their jackets and leaving.

"Good night, Sir, Mylady," the doorkeeper says he shows them to a cab, waving with one white-gloved hand when they drive away.

***

The question isn't unexpected but comes earlier than he'd anticipated, when they're lazily draped on the couch after their brunch, eggs and bacon microwaved back to the pretense of being edible.

"So, what's my diagnosis, doc?" Chris asks, his head resting against Leonard's shoulder.

"You had a psychotic episode in the aftermath of the stroke," Leonard says, "provoked by the drugging but I guess that the ground for it was laid long before."

Chris quietly inhales the news. "Sounds bad," he says after a moment.

"It's not that rare, actually. And recovery is usually quick and complete."

"Hmm." Chris looks more disbelieving than Leonard would like to see.

"Trust me, you're doing fine. You instinctively made the right decisions, pulled back from the world to get a rest and build up your psychic shields. You needed that time-out, but you also needed to open up after a while."

"So it was your idea to send Dael?" Chris casts a glance at him.

Leonard looks away, the memories of that one conference call replaying in his head: Jim and him on the _Enterprise_ , Dael on the courier ship, and John, Eric, Natasha and her husband on Earth, with John giving his report of his impromptu and very unofficial talk with Chris.

 _"He knew I was there but he reacted to nothing I said until the very end, when I concluded that he's obviously not interested in anything. To that, he nodded. I then warned him that this might work with me but that Dael was on her way back and she wouldn't just give up. He looked unconvinced but also a little hopeful. I think she's the only one right now who's got a chance to get to him. At least as long as we don't wait for the Enterprise, but we can't really count on that, can we?" John added with a sharp gaze at Leonard, who couldn't refute this argument._

"No, it wasn't my idea. And frankly…" Leonard clears his throat. "I didn't want her to do it."

Chris looks a little stunned, and Leonard can't blame him for it.

"You know her backstory, Chris. From my point of view, letting her taking care of you had a great potential for failure, and then, what would it do to her?"

Chris' face takes on a pained look. "I… don't understand."

Leonard sighs.

 _Be clear in what you say._ There isn't left room for vague suggestions, though he's not sure how well Chris will deal with the straight answer, so he takes a detour. "What do you know about her father?"

"That he turned mad over the murder of his wife and youngest son," Chris says slowly. "That — he must have had strong bouts of aggression. Learned that the hard way once when I lost control and smashed some dishes. She almost walked out on me."

"Right. From the bits Jim told me — nothing too detailed but of course we spoke about her and how she might be able to help you, her father probably had a psychosis too which turned more severe over the months. Moods like a rollercoaster, emotionally instable, losing grip on reality. At times he addressed her thinking she's his dead wife. Or pretended to prepare dinner for them all with five plates on the table and then served his kids a pot full of waste."

Chris tenses. "I didn't know that."

"She was his major caretaker because he turned increasingly aggressive against her brother. She managed to keep them all alive until that fucked-up rescue, where the children lost their father in the crowd without ever learning about his fate. So ultimately, she failed. And now we wanted her to return to a similar situation — being alone with someone she cared for too damn much and trying to build up his sanity. I couldn't support that, neither as a doctor nor as her friend." Suddenly noticing Chris' starch-white face, he stops and takes a deep breath.

 _Fuck. Where's Jim to kick my ass and shut me up at the right moment?_

"But she wanted to do it anyway, so we set a few ground rules and off she went," Leonard adds hastily and with feigned ease. "She had to stay in daily contact with us, and if anything went wrong, she'd have to call us ASAP. She also got a supervisor from rehab that would talk with her about her activities and adjust the pacing and your meds accordingly. She didn't like it a lot but she accepted it because I needed to sign off her interaction with you. Naaz had been pulled off your case, but you hadn't officially pulled me so I contacted your attending physicians and…" Realizing that his rambling thoughts are do nothing but making Chris closing down like charm, he shuts up for good and takes his lover in a tight embrace, stroking his hair.

"Sorry for swamping you, Chris," he mutters, slightly rocking the tense body in his arms. "Sorry."

 _Sorry for forgetting that you're more my patient than my lover right now._  
He's so emotionally compromised it isn't even funny, and they should have a therapist here that isn't involved with Chris. The one time Dael had suggested such a thing, though, Chris had shut down and didn't interact with her for hours, so that hadn't seemed like a feasible step in this stage of his convalescence. They would get to that when they returned to San Francisco… hopefully. For now, all he's got left is fixing the effects of his own damn stupidity.

"It's all fine, Chris," Leonard whispers, massaging the taut shoulder muscles. He's never quite sure whether Chris realizes how much of a father figure he is to Dael, no matter that the two close their eyes to that in textbook repression style. One day they'd have to deal with it.

 _Though not today, Dr. Leonard H. Freud._

"It's not fine," Chris mumbles against his shoulder. "You're right, you shouldn't have allowed it. If I'd ever been aggressive…"

"She would've backed out. That was her hard limit, and she made that clear before seeing you." Running his hands up and down Chris' back, Leonard can slowly feel the tension diminishing. "Didn't tell us the details but it was obvious there'd been an incident with you in the past. Add that to the fact that you had delusional moments in which you talked with an invisible visitor… You can imagine that I was anything but happy with the situation, but I lost the debate." Leonard sighs softly. "And of course I wanted to help you in any way I could, and deploying Dael to you seemed the only feasible proceeding."

"I never wanted to tie her down."

"You didn't. She had her mission, didn't she?"

"I thought she'd never come back."

"Yeah, I can imagine that. I wasn't too happy when I heard about those extentions," Leonard says. "It was up to her to make those decisions, of course, but it was really bad timing." He tries to downplay his sour feelings, but truth is that if Dael had returned in time, none of the downward spiral would've happened. On the other hand, it's fucking hypocrisy to blame her when it was his and Jim's fault that Chris had started this relationship thing at all.

"How about going to the beach?" Leonard asks, dying for a change of theme and scenery. "I've heard great things about it but didn't make it that far yet."

"Yes," Chris says, though sounding a little absent-minded.

"Everything okay?" Leonard runs one hand over his lover's chest, trying to convey protective warmth. "Chris? Hello, planet earth to Captain Pike?"

That brings Chris out of his momentary freeze, and he turns his head to stare at him in confusion. "Doc?"

"Just thought we could enjoy the scenery," Leonard says. "What were you thinking about?"

Chris hesitates, then mutely shakes his head.

Leonard helps him up, a supportive hand on Chris' upper arm. "Come with me," he says, leading the way for them both.

***

Jim's driving fast and reckless, the rented machine smooth between his legs, his body tightly wedged into the protective gear that comes with the motorbike, Dael behind him in a similar outfit. For weeks he'd been aching to go on this tour with her, had booked everything well in advance so that they'd only need to switch clothes after the ball, get to the shop, collect their goods and head off. Now that they're on the road, it's almost better than his dreams, the air fresh, the roads deserted, a few stars on the sky — this is freedom as he needs it right now.

It's still dark as they climb the mountains, and in some curves that he takes particularly narrowly, she clutches her hands tightly around his hips. But she doesn't say anything, and he's damn grateful about it because he really, really needs this trip, this adrenaline rush. He still notes that when he slows down at a truck stop, her body posture relaxes as the machine comes to a full stop. When she removes the helmet, her gaze is quietly disturbed, watching him in silence as he dismounts the vehicle. Over the mountains, the first morning light tinges the sky deep yellow.

"Going to buy something to drink and eat. You want to come in with me?"

"No, thanks," she says tonelessly.

"Fine, I'll be right back." He stomps over, a little clumsy in the fat biker boots they'd been forced to take.

When he enters the stop, he finds it's a rather rundown joint; the wooden interior darkened from age, forbidden tobacco and other illegal substances, half of the lights switched off, two slot machines from the turn of the century in the corner. An ironic smile tugs at his lips as he considers that ten years ago, this would've been exactly the place he'd gone to look for a fistfight when his dark moods struck. In fact, the seven guys hanging out on the bar even look like people who'd appreciate a bit of a physical quarrel, all broad-shouldered and with hands like pans, their jackets carrying similar emblems of skulls and crossbones. As he walks towards the bar, aware of how all eyes suddenly focus on him, he starts wondering if stopping here had been a serious error.

The bartender, a bull with a beard like a badly cut hedge looks at him with an unmoved face.

"Good day, sir. I'd like four sandwiches and a bottle or two of coke. Do you have that? Preferably two cheese, two ham."

The bartender gives him a disinterested nod. "Could get you some prepared." He shouts the order into the kitchen, then puts two bottles onto the counter. "That's all?"

"Yes, thanks." Jim whips out his credit chip and gives it to the man.

"You've got a nice bike," a guy next to him suddenly says, slightly slurred.

"Thanks, man. Rented it down in San Francisco." Jim half-turns his head, giving the dark-haired man an assessing gaze. He's pretty sure the guy hasn't been that close to his shoulder a minute ago, and a quick glance around tells him that he's not the only one who's drawn closer to him. Rotating a little more, he finds that the main door is blocked by a fat guy who grins broadly at him. He turns back, his whole body going to alert level.

 _Okay_ , he thinks as he considers his options, maybe he's been _a little_ stupid not to cover his back, especially as this isn't just about him, Dael outside on the bike the perfect fodder for such a gang. The thought of anything happening to her because of his carelessness is frightening him on a whole new level, making his usually flippant words get stuck in his throat.

The bartender gives him the credit chip, and he puts it into a secure pocket.

"Sure you need your bike tonight?" the dark-haired guy says, a smirk on his unshaven face. "You look like you had a long trip. You really should take a break."

"No, thanks," Jim says with barely a gaze at him. In the kitchen, the sandwich preparation seems to go into the last stage, and he wonders whether they'll ever end in his growling stomach, or rather on the floor of the joint.

The guy leans in a little closer. "I'm sure we could find a bed for you. And for your young friend too."

So they haven't identified her as a girl yet, good thing. An old woman comes out of the kitchen, giving him a bag and vanishing back into her area with an aura of _I ain't seen nothing_. He takes the cokes and the bag, turns — and stops.

They're in a half-circle around him, with the seventh guy still at the door, and they smirk at him with leering visages.

"You really should take up our offer, you know," a blond-haired guy says dangerously low. "Let me help you with that."

The second the man grabs the sandwich bag, Jim lets go of everything but one bottle of coke which he uses as a club against the dark-haired man closest to him. Taking them slightly by the surprise, he manages to knock down three before the first blow lands on his chin, sending him sprawling over the bar. He's pulled off it by strong hands, turned and pushed against it with his back, an attempt to elbow one of his attackers fizzling due to the protective gear that slows his moves considerably. It makes the punches that land in his stomach and on his chest a lot more bearable, but then they push him into the room and another slap lands in his unprotected face like a sledgehammer, knocking him out for the fraction of a second.

As his body hits the hard floor, he feels the blood on his face. Then, in slow motion, he can see heavy, metal-capped boots drawing close. _Shit. This is going to hurt a fucking lot..._

"Stop," a voice says sharply, and everything comes to a crashing hold. "One more step, and I'll kill this man."

With effort, Jim forces himself up from the wooden floor, scrambling to his feet. It's hard to look through his quickly swelling eyes, but the picture that unfolds is damn impressive; Dael, with her tattoos sharp on her angry face and a killer expression in her eyes, stands over the fat guy now kneeling next to the door, one hand in his hair, forcing back his head — the other pointing a dagger against his carotid artery strong enough to dent his skin.

"You all, go to the back room. Jim, lock the door behind them," she sharply orders. When the group doesn't react at first, she tightens her hold on her victim, eliciting a strangled gasp from the man.

"Do what she says, dammit," he barks at the men, and they finally obey, with angry shuffles and loud swearing. Jim drags himself to close the door, turning the key and blocking the old-fashioned handle with a chair. She orders her hostage to stand up, still aiming the knife at his throat's most vulnerable spot as they slowly walk out backwards. Only after Jim has managed to put on his helmet and gloves, does she knock the guy out with a well-aimed hit of the handle to his temple; he topples to the ground like dead meat.

"Let's go," Dael orders, stowing away the dagger before putting on her helmet. She drives, which is good because he wouldn't really be able to drive, but it's been a year since she'd been sitting on such a machine and it shows in the wobbly start and the dangerously slow speed with which she guides it around the first corner. For a while, she just drives along the main road, then takes a few smaller roads in case the gang would try to follow them, but the mountains remain quiet.

"Whoa, Dael, that was fantastic." Jim's voice wavers as she finally pulls the bike off the road and stops. "I'm really sorry for having put us into danger. Shit."

Without comment, she dismounts, pulls off her helmet, takes her bag and walks back the road they've come along. There's a meadow a few hundred meters away, where the trees open to reveal a great view of the morning sun. She sits down on the wet grass, slinging her arms around her folded knees.

He hurries along as fast as he can with his hurting body, and sinks down to the ground next to her.

"I'm really sorry," Jim says again, a little desperate for an answer. He's used to Bones' loud complaints, getting torn a new one when he's being an ass; he doesn't deal well with her silence that suddenly reminds him of Winona (he stopped calling her _mother_ a long time ago) in one of their few communications, when she'd stared at him in disapproving accusation. "Dael?"

She stretches her neck, then unpacks her bag, whipping out a bottle and shoving it into his hand.

Clumsily, he takes it with bloodied fingers. "Romulan Ale?"

"Have a go," she says, while unpacking a small medikit.

"Isn't that supposed to be illegal?" he says while he unscrews it. He takes a deep gulp, and it feels as if a rolling barrage shoves him down, stealing all of his breath out of his lungs, burning away his guts and then settling as a piece of glowing red iron in the pit of his stomach. Tears spring to his eyes, and fuck, this is exactly what he needs.

He takes another gulp. "Do you always have a dagger in your pocket?"

"If I can help it," she mutters and deals with his free hand. "A matter of habit."

"Had one with you when babysitting Chris?"

She doesn't answer him, only finishes her work, which is all the answer he needs, not that it should've surprised him after what he knew about her history. Besides — he really shouldn't complain after having been rescued by her.

"I'm sorry, Dael. Really," he says contritely as she tackles his other hand, cleaning the cuts, bandaging the knuckles. He feels incredibly guilty and more than a little ashamed that she'd got to witness what looks like a bounce-back to his stupid behavior of the past, even if it hadn't been intended.

When she's done with his face, the pain in his body is nicely drowned out after the fourth deep slug of the blue liquid, all of him a little floating.

One hand on his face, she forces him to look straight into her eyes. "What's the matter, Jim?"

"Nothing," he slurs, waving the open bottle carelessly in the air. "Why should anything ever matter to me? Always got the answers, so don't care, just carry on."

Prying the bottle from his fingers, she sips from it before screwing it shut and putting it aside, not heeding his longing gaze.

"It's not about me, anyway," he mutters.

She drags him down to the ground with her, and he stretches out on his back with a groan while her face towers above him.

"You're angry." Her voice is cool and analytical, and she does a good copycat of Bones' patented shrink gaze.

"I'm never angry. Here, look at me." He stretches out his arms, at least as wide as he can before pulled muscles hurt and her body is in the way. "Do I look angry to you?" Giving her a comical look through long lashes, he plays the fool. Still his best strategy to deflect questions like these, gazes like hers.

Her lips quirk. "That's why I gave you the ale."

 _Shit._ "You made me drunk on purpose?" He's been avoiding getting drunk for years, doesn't even like to see other drunken people anymore ever since he'd straightened out some psychological shit about his stepfather. Hell, when he'd once come back to Chris' apartment and found his lover stupidly wasted, his first impulse had been to turn on his heel and leave, subconsciously fearing Chris might be of the violent type of drunk. Turned out Chris was just sweetly needy and suppliant, but he still doesn't need a repetition.

"Why did you do that?" Probably Bones had said something about getting him a little loosen up.

"Get you to speak what you really think. Call it therapy," she says, her other hand flat on his chest, seeping warmth.

"I don't need a shrink. And I especially don't need you to do that job," he says, though it doesn't sound half as firm as he'd intended to, his voice a little shaky around the edges from the alcohol and the receding adrenaline. "Bad enough that you've got to be that for Chris. Don't you ever get tired of picking up his pieces? It was the third time, wasn't it?"

She nods as if she'd expected that, then shakes her head. "You don't know me half as well as you think."

He looks at her marvelous features, the way her tattoos curve in new, amazing ways from his distorted sight. "I know a Samarian complex when I see one. I live with Bones. You want to keep doing that, never acting, only reacting to what other people want from you?"

Dael laughs quietly. "I didn't want to attend the Admiralty's Ball to which you dragged me right after my arrival. I didn't want to drive away either. And I didn't really get asked by you, did I?"

Yeah, he knows. Yeah, he'd been glad she hadn't resisted his suggestions.

He can still dislike it from the bottom of his heart. "We needed to attend."

"Yes." She laces her legs with his, the protective gear cushioning her bony limbs. "So you're angry that it's all been about Christopher lately."

"Yes." He curls his lips. "Yes, I am. And I just don't want to talk about him anymore, or Bones, for the matter. I'm tired of it. I'm fed up with it."

Drunken ramblings, drunken truths. Just what she wants, right?

"You resent him for his problems, for not being strong anymore. And that his health problems bind Leonard's time and interest." She corners him enough to make him avoid her gaze. "Do you fear you will lose Leonard?"

His shoulders sink against the ground, and he's averting her gaze in silence for a while before he looks back at her. "I'm not sure I haven't already."

"You think Leonard would want to stay with Christopher, just the two of them?"

"I always knew he's not really poly. He got used to it while being with me, because we wouldn't have been able to have a successful relationship otherwise. And Chris… same thing. Maybe it just could never work out. I should've known it was a mistake. My own damn fault, bringing them together."

It feels incredibly good to let it flow, all the things he couldn't tell anyone else, not Bones who'd been brooding all through the radio silence, not Chris who found his own solution in a way that had left everyone else afloat. She's the perfect listener to his confessions, the truth behind the all-easy façade and his usually positive outlook on life that had taken some serious damage over the last months.

"So you think Christopher will break up with me and push me out of his life to make room for Leonard?" she asks.

"Uh." Put like this, it sounds a little bit unbelievable. "No," he says reluctantly. "I don't think he'd do that."

"Good. Because I cannot imagine Leonard separate from you either." She puts one hand on his, lacing their fingers. "I made my own choices — I went on the mission, and I agreed to its extension. I made both decisions although I knew that Christopher would have a hard time with them. It's possible that I wanted to make up for some of my regret about the results by spending these months with him, but I also needed some quiet and peace. It wasn't an easy mission."

"I can imagine," he says, still turning over his own thoughts, own fears, more things he needs to share with someone who can understand him. He rubs her hand, checking for the ring that hadn't registered on his sensors at first, but it's there, and instinct tells him it's got to be Chris' ring. It makes him feel even stranger, beyond the fact that he's lying on his back, beaten and drunk in the morning sun, and pouring out his heartache to a woman in a way he hadn't done in ten years.

Maybe because he simply hadn't felt so heartbroken in the last ten years either.

"You know," he says slurred, "maybe Chris doesn't want to leave you but that doesn't mean that Bones wouldn't leave me anyway for him. You could do that, the three of you, it would work well I guess, Bones is a good guy, he can share." Jim chuckles darkly.

A thoughtful frown tilts her pattern. "Why do you feel so insecure? You never felt like this when we were all together. Or did you?"

"No, not like that. Had my misgivings, but thought I could deal with it pretty well. I did deal well, right? Just…"

"Just what?"

He stares at the sky as he speaks. "Bones and I didn't have many rules when it came to others, but the _one_ big rule was — no secrets. We shared everything important. Not the little things, we trust each other enough that we don't need to know every detail. But we just didn't have secrets when it came to things that had a serious impact on our relationship."

"And that's been different with Christopher?"

"Not at first. But on the last tour, Bones played some game with Chris over long distance communication, and I didn't know what it was about and he didn't share anything. I only knew that something had changed. When the order of complete radio silence came in, Bones was in an absolutely foul mood but also, I don't know — relieved? I started to obsess over the situation, because I wondered if Chris had offered something special, or placed an ultimatum of some sort. I asked Bones and he said — _I promised it would be between Chris and me, and I can't break that promise_."

"So he broke the promise he'd made to you."

"Yes," Jim says, and all the frustration and sadness that had kindled up in him over the last months sweeps up to the surface, his mind clear and focused, the comforting haze of inebriation gone. "There wasn't anything short of hacking into his files and checking their communication, but I couldn't do that. I also couldn't pressure Bones because I just knew that if I did that, he'd break apart and I would still lose him. We were on a really critical mission and we just didn't have time for this shit. And when the battles were over and communication reestablished, Chris pulls this ex out of the hat and Bones is in an even fouler mood. I put on a brave front and tried to ease the tension between them. Thought I had succeeded too until Chris calls me for a big, fat lecture on how to deal with the admiralty." Jim rolls his eyes and instantly winces, damn, his face hurts from the slightest movement. "He was right but I've spent the last three months in open conflict with Nogura because of that. There are moments when I wish I were just some low rank way out in space, and not James T. Kirk, troublemaker extraordinaire."

Dael just quietly listens, and he feels guilty for swamping her with his self-pity, his moment of happily wallowing in his shit ending abruptly as if someone poured a bucket of cold water over him.

"I'm sorry, Dael," he mutters and throws one arm over his eyes, wishing he could get beamed away, wishing he could be a good partner and the friend she needs instead of the guy who's dumping his personal relationship problems onto her.

"You're wrong," she says softly, her fingers curling around the hand of his folded arm. "Christopher loves you, and he'll never ask Leonard to stay. They both love you, and they're aware that they're causing you pain."

"Is he?" he asks throatily. "Does Chris really know what he's done to us? What he's still doing to all of us?" He knows it's wrong to accuse Chris of having broken down on purpose, he knows there've been bad circumstances adding up and people wanting to get Chris out of the way, up to the level of a damn conspiracy, but a part of him can't really forgive Chris.

Dael's right, he _does_ blame Chris for having been too weak.

 _How fucked-up it all is…_

"He's not ready to face it yet, but deep down he knows. Give him some time." She takes away his arm, prompting him to embrace her. Her body molds against his, her lips slightly brushing over his.

"We all love you. Never doubt that. Space isn't big enough for you to get away."

Jim screws his eyes shut, wishing she'd be right, knowing in his heart that she isn't. This isn't about him walking away, never has been, it's about _the others_ walking away and leaving him, all of them. His hazy, drunken, fucking maudlin mood returns full-fledged, the weight of a million tons crushing his chest as he tries to find a good answer.

"Hold onto me." Her arms tighten around him, fingers laced into his hair as she kisses him, and he pretends that the small, desperate sob between them isn't coming out of his own mouth.

***

The beach isn't the most beautiful place on Earth — Leonard had seen too much to give it that vote — but it's definitely the most secluded place he'd ever been to, hundred of meters of white sand just for the two of them.

"The only thing missing are cocktails," he says as he lies next to Chris on one of the amusingly old-fashioned white-and-blue beach chairs.

"Just order the ingredients, they'll beam them in," Chris says, two of his fingers hooked with Leonard's, their arms lightly swinging between the chairs. "You know how, don't you?"

"Yes." The order system had been one of those things Dael had showed him when they'd made their handover, and it's quite fool-proof. "What would you like to have?"

 _All right, a question too much_ , Leonard finds as Chris has a visible problem to answer. "I'll get everything for a few standard mixtures," he says to relieve him from the burden of a reply, and leaves for the house.

When he returns with two Long Island Ice Teas (well aware that alcohol isn't really recommended to go with Chris's medication, but what the hell, it won't kill him either), the chairs are empty, and for a shocked moment he searches the water with his eyes, engaging in wild nightmares of Chris getting drowned by the sea.

Then he sees his missed lover-slash-patient surfacing and walking towards the strand, shaking his hair like a dog to get rid of the water. Chris waves at him with a smile on his face, and Leonard's got to remind himself that despite the psychological problems, Chris is doing surprisingly well on the physical level.

 _He really likes swimming. He likes the floating feeling_ , Dael had said, and that she always let Chris be on his own for it because that's what he prefers. The nearness to water had been one of the major points when selecting this site, aside of the fact that it's located on an incredibly well protected island and that Nat's husband could considerably speed up the renting negotiation.

If he ever had a breakdown, he'd like to recover in a similarly luxurious hiding place.

"Can I come with you next time?" Leonard says lightly as he offers Chris a towel.

A light frown, a climbing brow. "Fear I'd drown?"

"I just love watching your ass," Leonard replies with a twinkle.

Chris turns and tilts his pelvis back with an amused smirk. "Might as well do that on land."

Laughing, Leonard slings his arm around Chris' middle and presses his groin against the wet skin. "I might."

It's the first rimming he ever delivers out in the open sun. Looks as if he's about to become an exhibitionist in his old age.

***

She's the one driving them home, her command of the motorbike stronger with every mile. He numbly sits behind her, feeling worn out and unsure what she's thinking of him now. She's the least judgmental person he knows, a nice change from Bones who has an opinion about anything and anyone and rarely keeps from saying it too, but sometimes he just doesn't know how to read her. He cares a lot for her but it's not the kind of love that makes his head spin and his stomach flutter, and he's not sure that she's able to feel that kind of love, except for Chris maybe.

 _Yeah, great._ Persuading himself that he's second best to her too is a great final blow for his mood.

"Dismount?" she suggests, and only then he realizes that they're already parked in front of the apartment house. She takes their bit of baggage and they ride up the elevator in silence. He quietly walks in after she opens the door for him, feeling once more like a visitor, not an inhabitant of this unpretentious but still luxurious apartment although he's spent the last three days here.

She pulls him into the _Jim &Bones_ bedroom and unwraps him like a gift. It makes him feel physically naked on top of having bared his soul already, but it also makes him aroused, which is a feeling he can deal with. Sex is easy and comforting. He undresses her too, and when she's nude, she directs him onto the bed so that he's flat on his back, before crawling over him.

"None of us knows what the future brings." She kisses his lips, so gently that it almost doesn't hurt. "But I know what I want today, and that is you, and you alone." Her next kiss is more fiercely, and he opens his mouth to her demanding tongue, the tension of the night exploding into a rush of arousal. His growing hard-on nudges against her skinny ass, and she manages to rub against it while she keeps kissing him with a faint trace of blood in the mix, her hands holding onto his arms and shoulders in plain need.

He hadn't sex in quite a while, probably the longest phase of sexual abstinence since high school, and when her warm body envelopes him, he sighs in relief and bliss, rolling his hips upwards.

"Oh damn, I need this…" he mutters and pulls them together to reach her breasts, licking one of her reluctant nipples. She groans against him as he uses some teeth, her riding movement breaking for a moment. He thinks of all the ways they'd had sex in the past and a lot of other funny positions he'd dreamed about, considering that she's the slimmest, lithest person he's ever been with. And best of all, he totally doesn't think of all the shit he'd said and the past and future and —

Catching him by surprise she suddenly moves off and away from him, running out of the room. Concerned, he's half out of bed when she returns with three small bottles.

"Pick one," she says breathlessly, and he recognizes the label, the protective lube he'd recommended to them himself.

"Dael…?"

"I want you to fuck me," she states, definitely never one to beat around the bush, but he still feels out of the loop here.

"I want you to fuck me like he did," she says, meeting his eyes. "Both ways."

"Oh." _Her ass belongs to me_ , Chris had said, and it's been the only limit Chris had ever set between Dael and him. Even thinking about breaking his promise makes Jim uncomfortable.

"I don't know what kind of — _arrangement_ you made about me, but it's not within his rights to negotiate my limits," Dael says roughly. "He's always made a point about my making my own decisions. This is one. I want you to fuck me like you saw on those vids that we sent to you. You said you liked them. Did you?"

Jim's throat is dry. "Yes. I loved watching them."

"Then you know what I want." She pushes the bottles into his hand. "Pick one."

He takes vanilla and feels _fucking hell_ dirty as she gets on all fours in front of him, offering her backside in an unambiguous way. Taking a deep breath, he kneels down behind her and starts fingering her ass with one hand, the other one partly on her hip, partly on his own dick though little Jim doesn't really need further encouragement.

Her hole is really tight. "You didn't have a lot of sex lately, did you?" he asks.

"No," she says, a lot of frustration in that one word. He doesn't ask for details, but considering the way they both get off on this even before the actual act, they're both suffering from a bad case of underfuckedness.

Once she's slicked up, he slides into her pussy first. Arching her back with a whimper, she pushes back against him, forcing him into a rhythm that's almost too fast for his taste. He slows her down a bit, making it clear that he's got to set the pacing if she wants him to switch around, his hands holding firmly onto her hips. There's a tiny bit of fight in her posture, a bit of resistance asking to be encountered and overcome when he takes her ass that he can't remember from the vids, doesn't know if this is because of him or because she's changed. It leaves him a little floundering even as he fucks her into the mattress with long strokes, giving both her holes the demanded attention in turns. He must be doing it right, though, as it doesn't take long before her noises change, getting that desperate little edge she always tries to subdue without success. Taking her by surprise, he pulls her upwards with his cock buried in her ass, reaching around to push two fingers into her and thumb her clit. His touches quickly propel her into an orgasm that wracks her body so hard that it takes all of his strength to keep holding her before he follows her over the threshold.

And then her tears break and she sobs with her head leaned back against his shoulder, shaking from other emotions. He's not sure if it's relief or pain, if it's got anything to do with him or maybe just with Chris, but he cradles her in his embrace and presses kisses against her neck until the tension runs out of her body.

"Thanks," she whispers as he helps her down on the bed and curls around her. "I needed this."

"I know. You're welcome." He's pretty done, exhausted and sleepy, but still a lot less hung-up about everything. Sex has always been his best relaxant. He'll make sure not to forget about that in the future.

Burying his still hurting face into Dael's beyond-hope-chaotic hair, they fall asleep together.

 

When Jim wakes up in the evening, he's momentarily disoriented; then he's vaguely disappointed that Dael isn't here with him. The other half of his bed feels cool to his palm, she must've been gone for some time. He gets up and hits the bathroom before leaving the _Jim &Bones_ bedroom to look for her.

He finds her in Chris' (and her) bedroom, dressed with nothing but her fake dick, turning in front of the large mirror to watch herself. Carefully, he walks into the room and joins her, putting his hands on her hips and looking over her shoulder as she squarely faces the mirror.

"Looking for something particular?" he asks after a necking kiss on her left earlobe. Her skin is still humid from a shower, her hair fuzzy from toweling.

"Take a guess," she says.

He looks at her, considering her figure and the change he'd perceived under his touch last night. "You gained some muscles, didn't you?"

"Yes." She stretches out her arms, flexing them. "I was taught self defense, and when I was considered too weak by my tutor, they suggested I take some anabolic steroids to improve more quickly." She smiles faintly. "The doctor was not averse to adding testosterone to the mix."

"Oh." Jim's brows rise in surprise. "So — you want to transition?"

"I didn't say that. I always wanted to try it and see how I'd feel with it. I love the extra energy it gives me, and the higher strength. I also didn't miss certain female — issues." She runs her hands from her flat chest down to her groin, settling her fingers around the base of the dildo. "But it didn't give me any sudden epiphany. It felt neither wrong nor like homecoming. It just felt different, like emphasizing other aspects of me."

Jim nods, unable to imagine that kind of gender fluidity for himself. "So you'd rather keep the flexibility to choose what you want to be in any given minute… or with certain partners?"

"Yes. I like to be a woman with women, and I like my dick when I'm with men. Although Christopher always sees foremost the woman in me."

"He looked pretty dedicated the one time I saw him giving you head."

"He loves it but I think it's the contrast to his image of me as a woman that is the real turn-on there." She sighs a little, as if that was a source of frustration.

"I'm not privy to his thoughts," Jim says. Wishing he could make her stop talking about people he doesn't want to think about right now, he reaches around and strokes her dick.

"And what do you think?" she asks him, her eyes large in the mirror.

"That I accept you in any way you want to be accepted, no matter what tag you pin on yourself," he says without hesitation. "And that I really want to have sex with you, no matter how." He grins as she shakes her head with a laugh.

Five minutes later, he rides her cock on the large couch in the living room, trying to forget that last time he'd been here, it had been Chris he'd been riding like this.

***

They establish a gentle routine, which is slightly different than the one Chris had had with Dael, but just as steady and without any surprises, offering a stable surrounding for the recovering man. They have breakfast, go swimming, spend lots of time lying together in bed, on the couch, on the beach — everywhere. They don't talk a lot and sometimes the silence feels oppressive to Leonard, as does the general feeling of low activity. He's used to the permanent buzzing and pulsing of the _Enterprise_ , where even days off are embedded into the ongoing activities, where every second something unexpected could and frequently would happen. And even if everything goes according to plan, Jim, by the sheer force of his energy and endless willpower, injects his life with surprises, stirring him out of bored satiation, keeping him from falling prey to his own tendencies of moody overthinking and feelings of depression.

He misses that, misses Jim.

More than once, he takes his PADD in hand and drafts a message to him, but then he remembers Jim's face when they'd said good-bye and the words his husband, the man he'd never thought to leave, had said:

 _Go and enjoy your time with Chris, and for once, don't think of me._

What Jim hadn't said but meant was, _Go and find the hell out what you want, because I can't answer it for you, and I can't live with the situation at hand forever._

Until he has some idea about what he wants, there's no use in writing to Jim. It would only make things worse.

One time he deletes a message, Chris quietly places one hand on his arm, and he wonders if his lover knows. But Chris never asks to send a message to Dael, and so Leonard doesn't mention Jim, pretending they're really just in a bubble of their own.

For a while, it almost works.

***

"Thanks for meeting me," the woman at his side says as they walk along a quiet path in one of the most boring corners of the hills above the city, the midday air overheated and dry.

"Any particular reason why you wanted to see me here instead of calling me to your office, Commodore?" Jim says directly, although neither of them is in uniform. Meeting a member of the Admiralty out here makes him feel as if he got beamed into a spy movie, not his favorite thing after the last months in conflict with the higher ranks. He'd also been called away straight from the couch, and would love to return to Dael and more enjoyable activities as quickly as possible.

Commodore Mori Illyon gives him an upward gaze from pitch-black eyes, an amused smirk on her face. She's tiny in size, short and slim, but makes it up by her personality and by her long, unnaturally blond hair that's always styled to absurd heights, quite in violation of regulations. She'd appear almost comical if one didn't know her substantial record as a 'fleet officer.

"First of all, sorry that I was out of the house when you came in for the first debriefings. I absolutely wanted to be there but, well…" She waves her arm.

There's no good answer to this, so Jim just keeps walking next to her with hands laced behind his back.

"Second, I'd like to ask you — how's Christopher? Real information, not the kind of crap you've dealt everyone at the Ball."

He frowns. "You know I can't speak about medical details." _And why the hell should I share anything else with you people?_

"See…" She stops and turns, facing him as good as she can, being two heads smaller than him. "I understand what you're thinking. I'm not asking you as a Starfleet member. I'm asking you as a friend of Christopher who's known him since academy time. In fact, I was speaking to him just on the Friday before his stroke, asking for his advice regarding Lieutenant Asimov."

Jim shrugs a little. "Chris never said a word about you." If Illyon were just any other officer, he might be willing to share more, but she's the temporary Head of Ship Operations for six weeks now, brought in by a selection board consisting of high-ranking officers and Federation officials. They'd wanted to have someone the active forces could relate to. Nobody had asked Jim, but he wouldn't have been in favor of her, not the least because she didn't appear to be a great politician, and he'd seen where this weakness had led for Chris.

That Illyon had accepted the position had actually surprised him, but maybe she's more ambitious than he'd have granted someone who'd been on and off long-range research ships for decades without apparently looking for more stripes.

"I was a year ahead of him but we had many courses together. Can't claim I've ever been his wingman, he had John for that, but we've become good friends. We didn't stay in contact as often as we should have, but whenever we talked it was as if we'd never been apart." She looks away, a gentle sigh on her lips. "Can't blame you for not believing me, after the shit that happened with Christopher."

He's unmoved. "Why don't you help me make up my mind by telling me why you'd want to know that? And don't give me the _old friends_ crap, I had dozens of people messaging me over the last weeks with that line."

"I can imagine. As I said — can't blame you for being cautious right now regarding what you share with whom. Caution is good." She gestures them towards a rather forgotten, slightly rotten sight-seeing bench, and he sits down a good distance from her.

"Caution is definitely something Christopher should've exerted a little more," Illyon adds.

Despite basically having the same opinion, Jim Kirk doesn't take criticism of his beloved ones lightly. He feels his jaw setting.

"Don't bristle," the commodore says appeasingly. "We all have our weak spots. For example, Christopher is one of the few who knows that I spend every shoreleave with a dozen sexy young men on Risa. Generous pay, and their only duty is to make me feel like a queen for four weeks." She smiles, obviously reliving happy memories.

Not eager to go down TMI alley with his superior officer, Jim only says, "What's the point, Illyon?"

Her face morphs back into a serious expression. "First of all, I wanted to ask about Christopher because as his friend, I'm concerned about him. Second, I wanted to inquire about his state to decide whether there's any chance I could get him into the new Ship Ops advisory board I'm planning to install."

"Another 'fleet board?" Jim shakes his head incredulously. "He's barely ready to have anyone around him at all. I seriously doubt that he'll be ready to return to the admiralty within the next months." _If ever_ , he adds in thoughts.

"So his state is as bad as the latest news articles suggest?" she asks, her expression showing nothing but concern for once.

"He's recovering fine," Jim says. "But he's not doing well yet."

"Your husband is with him, I've heard?"

"Yes."

"Good." She nods. "While you keep the home in order and show your face off with Dael in tow."

"Anything wrong with that?" he says, his shoulder muscles tensing.

"No, not at all. I heard she did a good job in her mission. Top-notch." Illyon smiles a little too sweetly. "Just be cautious. She's young, Kirk, really young."

"That translating to stupid, _sir_?" he asks icily.

"Oh, no. Christopher has little tolerance for fools, so I gather she's got to meet his high standards, even if it's not obvious at first glance. But as I said, she's young, and young people tend to make foolish decisions at times. That's in their nature."

"Sometimes foolish decisions turn out to be great decisions," Jim can't help reminding her.

She waves her hand. "Not everyone has your luck, Kirk. It could've ended differently."

"It wasn't luck that brought me through the last years."

"I know. You absolutely proved your worth, and we're glad to have you. The _Enterprise_ refit proceeds as planned so far, and I'm looking forward to having her out there to test the new weapons."

"And the defense installations," he reminds her.

"And the defenses, right," Illyon concedes. She gets up. "I need to leave now. Why don't you enjoy the sight a little longer, Captain, considering that you're on leave? See you around soon." The commodore walks away, and knowing that it's been an order, Kirk folds his hands and stares at the ground for a while, weighting and finding the whole conversation lacking. He really could do without the admiralty at the moment, considering that half his encounters with them give him a headache and a foul taste in his mouth. If that's what Chris had felt each day in the last months, it's a miracle he endured it that long.

Jim comes home to Dael hanging up two of her paintings in the living room.

 _It's about damn time,_ he thinks, and _a shame she couldn't do that with Chris around_.

He still happily keeps her from finishing her work by seducing her into having incredibly hot sex on the kitchen table.

***

On the property to their left, there are horses.

Leonard had known this before he stares at the beautiful but also rather agitated black horse galloping towards them, because Dael had left him some "notes".

 _Notes, my ass_ , they are full-fledged dossiers about the half-dozen beach neighbors (names, family background, property owners, possible relations to Starfleet) as well as dossiers about the personnel working in their house between three and four in the morning, all sworn to silence and ordered to keep out of sight of Chris. Leonard isn't sure where she got all the information from but the intelligence training she'd gone through is clearly visible. The notes also show that she's isolated Chris just as efficiently as he's needed and demanded — but it's time to change that again.

Though getting run over by a horse had not been part of the plan, he thinks breathlessly as the beauty keeps aiming at them. He stretches out his arms, wondering what he might do to protect his lover.

"Doc, get out of the way," Chris says from behind and moves him aside with laughter in his voice. "You don't know shit about horses."

"Hey, I've had a few riding lessons too in my life," Leonard mutters, but then watches in awe how Chris manages to get the horse stopped and calmed down with little effort. He hadn't known he's with a veritable horse whisperer.

Two men approach them from where the horse had broken through the beach perimeter. The ease in Chris' posture while he'd dealt with the horse rapidly diminishes on the sight of the men, and his gaze nervously flickers towards Leonard. It's progress that Chris acknowledges the physical reality of other people which he hadn't really done before Dael, but such moments are still tricky, Chris more than likely to withdraw.

Leonard quickly moves forward, extending a hand. "Welcome, gentlemen. I suppose this is your horse?"

"Yes. I'm sorry for the hassle and glad you could catch him before anything happened," the man in the more stylish clothes answered and shakes the offered hand. He's about Leonard's age, a little chubbier and shorter, with long brown hair pulled together to a pony tail. "I'm Iro, and this is my _peon_ George." The other man, with a shaved head and dressed in rough worker clothes, nods to Leonard, then walks towards the horse. The black stallion instantly makes a few nervous side steps, only calming under Chris' gently whispered words.

"Seems the horse doesn't like him, does it?" Leonard asks.

"They've got history. Nobody's fault, but — yes. George, why don't you wait back home, I think we've got it under control," Iro says. George glares at them but then marches back without further discussion.

"He's not really a peon, is he?" Leonard asks, vaguely remembering the antiquated word's meaning.

Iro shrugs with an amused smile. "Depends on the interpretation." His eyes wander to Chris. "Your friend seems to have a good hand for horses."

"He's grown up with them," Leonard says.

"Do you think he would mind bringing him back to my side of the fence?" Iro asks.

From the change in Chris's posture, Leonard knows that he listens, but he has no idea what Chris would want him to answer. At least not until Chris gives him a tiny nod and then simply walks away with the horse, which follows him obediently with his nose close to Chris's shoulder.

"He's not a talker, is he?" Iro asks as they follow the two in a distance.

"He's recovering from an injury," Leonard says.

"Interesting. Ashaire — which means light in Arabic — is too."

Leonard sourly wishes he'd read the dossiers better; he's sure Dael had memorized them all and would have known whether this might be the truth or just a convenient lie. Especially as it's been a little too much of a coincidence, having such a horse running towards Chris.

"Really," Iro adds as he notes Leonard's critical gaze. "He was mistreated by his last owner, and we're still working on the trust issue."

"Doesn't seem like George does a good job with that."

"I fear he doesn't know horses too well," Iro admits. "While your friend is quite another matter."

"You're not going to get him as your groom," Leonard states.

Iro hums noncommittedly. In front of them, Chris and the horse walk in perfect rapport, the animal keeping Chris' slow pace.

 _This is going to be trouble._

***

They socialize, not always to the best effect.

Dael drags him to an invitation at John Farnham's home. Eric and Arissa are there too, taking Dael away for cross-examination and leaving him with John for a while, which isn't his idea of a relaxed evening. Jim can still remember Chris' original statement that John isn't to be trusted, and he has never really changed that basic opinion. That John had engaged in brief moments of unusual self-reflection after the clusterfuck with Alain had appeased Jim slightly, but they'd probably never become good friends.

 _John's a bastard but at least he's a bastard on Chris' side_ , as Bones likes to put it.

Jim understands that Arissa is Dael's favorite female lover and a little more protective of her than Jim feels necessary, Eric is a cute anything-goes sub who likes to suck Dael's dick and has a crush on Chris but loses points for having moved in with John. He's happy when they can leave after a first-class four-dish menu without taking up the offer of spending the night together.

Two days later, he drags Dael to a get-together with his bridge officers and associated friends, hoping she'd get to know them a little better than at the Ball. Everyone is nice to her, no doubt about it, and she smoothly speaks Vulcan with Spock, pretends to be interested in Scotty's latest Enterprise warp engine improvements and is nice to Chekov who lengthily speaks about how tattoos were invented in Russia. But she doesn't get the in-jokes that have everyone laughing, keeps away from the punch and the buffet claiming she's not hungry, and in general doesn't speak when she can avoid it.

She leaves early, not wanting to spoil his party. He leaves not long after her, unable to pretend it's not already spoiled.

"Give her some time," Uhura tells him softly as she shows him out. "She's not you."

***

Leonard actually doesn't like horses, or the smell of them, or horse shit — as he finds out when he accompanies Chris to his new impromptu job training Ashaire. He's all for Chris meeting new people, but he's not going to let him out of his eyes on a foreign property as long as he's not 120% sure that Iro doesn't engage in some foul play.

Dael's notes have informed him that Iro is the founder and main owner of IXOS Transplanetary, a technology company with Federation-wide branches. He'd heard of the company before, like everyone in this part of the quadrant, and it's a little strange to be invited onto the property of someone that influential.

Just to keep himself occupied, he's shoveling horse shit. Three other horses populate the stables, and there's an actual groom around that tackles those. But Ashaire, Leonard learns, is something special, and watching Chris out on the green with the horse is something special too. He freezes a little as Iro appears and joins the two for a moment, but the man is carefully keeping his distance and soon leaves them to their own devices.

He hadn't been the only one to check out the neighbors. He remembers Iro's words when the man had come over to ask for Chris' help:

 _I know who your friend is — it would be pretty hard not to recognize him, considering the headlines of the last months. But rest assured that your identity is in good hands with me. We've got a shared interest — I want my horse to recover, and you want him to recover. If he wants to work with him, I'd love to give him that chance._

Of course Chris had accepted; not in so many words, but by being ready to leave for the stables within ten minutes, forcing Leonard to skip his shower so that he could join him. He's concerned that Chris will overdo it, keeps watching out for any instability in his walk and for alerts on his PADD that is connected to Chris' meddata tracking implant, but so far, all is well.

"It's always about the horse," George says close to him, and he gazes at the man. He still doesn't have a clue what George's role is but he sounds as if…

"You're jealous of a horse?" he asks a little amused.

"Just wait and see," the man says gloomily, and vanishes. Leonard is damn happy when Chris leaves the horse and walks towards the stable, picking him up with a nod. They return to their own beach for a shower and a rest.

"Don’t want to overdo it," Chris says as he curls around Leonard. "He's a marvelous stallion, but with a pretty bad history."

"Sounds familiar," Leonard mutters, and is glad when he's rewarded with a chuckle. "I just don't get this George guy. What the hell is his job?"

The chuckle increases momentarily before Chris says, "He's Iro's slave, of course."

"Uh, what?"

Chris rolls up on one elbow. "They're lovers in a D/s relationship. You know that concept?" He smirks.

"Did Iro tell you that?"

"No, but it's been obvious to me from the first second on."

Leonard digests that. "Could've told me. Guess I'm still too much vanilla to recognize such a relationship right away." He strokes Chris' neck. "He's jealous of the horse."

"No surprise here," Chris says, and leans into his touch before adding, "The moment you feel like that… feel free to remind me where I belong."

"Whoa, okay." Leonard tightens his grip on Chris, pulling his lover into a deep kiss. Using his other hand to their best advantage, he brings them to a sweet but messy orgasm that leaves Chris boneless in his arms. Too tired for another shower, they move away from the soggy spot and fall asleep.

***

"I'd like to take you to one of Arissa's special dance parties on Friday," Dael says without introduction after their joined lunch, and the way she emphasizes the _special_ conjures rather erotic images. She catches Jim in a really bad moment, though, since he'd just been sent another news article about the four of them, seemingly respectful but with a few nasty barbs hidden in the fine print.

"I really don't want to attend anything that could bring us into the headlines, Dael," he therefore says stiffly, and closes the article without showing it to her. It's interesting that during McAllister's campaign, someone seemed to have taken pains to keep the three of them out of the headlines, only delivering blows against Chris. Over the last months, though, their foursome had been pulled more into the spotlight. They'd been approached by this and that glamour magazine that tried to get a hold onto some exclusive stories about _The Powerful Quartet_ , as some asshole has christened them, an expression that now makes the round in the admiralty as _The Potent Quartet_ or _TPQ_ , not always meant as a teasing joke. The Starfleet press office had already warned him that he'd be forced to make some statement sooner or later and are only waiting for his confirmation of an interview. He doubts he'll be able to escape this time, but maybe he could keep the others out of the picture, more or less.

So yeah, special parties are absolutely out at this time when he doesn't even kiss Dael in public.

Jim should've known that Dael wouldn't simply give in; that evening she gives him her PADD with Arissa on the line. He takes it with an inward sigh.

"Heard you don't feel secure attending a party of mine," the woman says.

"No, I don't. I really want to keep us out of the news for a while, so any major party is out."

On the other side of the connection, Arissa shakes her head, the swing of her curls underlining her disagreement. "Okay. Let's start from the beginning. No guest of my parties has ever ended in any headline, with any picture. And I've had some pretty illustrious names here over the last twenty years. And then… I hate saying it, but Chris had a problem. He hadn't been properly socialized in our circles, that's why they got him."

"Aside of the problem that someone in Fed Intelligence was keeping tabs on him," Jim says coolly.

"Aside of that but even then — he wasn't as cautious as he should've been, because he's never before been forced to consider his personal safe space this way. He owns the _Idaho_ but he's never really been a member of that scene. He knows how to handle the anonymity of short encounters but not how to play the game for a fulfilled life away from prying eyes. It's really very easy to live out your kinks when you're in the right circles." She shakes her head once more. "I saw the problem but we aren't close, so I wasn't the right person to break it to him. And Dael is a sweetheart who'll eat her tongue before criticizing him."

He looks over to Dael, who shrugs defiantly.

"I don't know you very well yet, Jim, but Dael knows you, and when she says you'd have a good time here, then maybe you should trust her and yourself and let it happen."

"I'll think about it," Jim says.

"Good. See you around." She twinkles and closes the connection.

He shakes his head as he realizes he's really considering her invitation. "Pretty convincing woman, huh?"

On the couch, Dael folds around her bent legs. "She's really special, and I like her a lot. But she's not right about Christopher and me; when I feel the need to speak up, I do so. Everything was fine while I was still here. I knew he'd be unhappy without me, but I never thought that he could really be in danger." She smiles tiredly. "I didn't see the same risks as Arissa did. I thought nothing could ruin Christopher's reputation."

"If the Admiralty's Ball told us anything, he's got still quite the reputation among the Federation ambassadors. Within Starfleet it suffered a blow in the eyes of some, but even there the great job he did with the _Pathfinder_ refit remains beyond criticism."

Dael looks unconvinced, but doesn't seem inclined to pursue this discussion. "So we will attend the party," she says instead, and it's less of a question and more of a statement.

"Hmmm, guess we will," Jim says and picks up one of the apples Tom had delivered to them a day ago, juggling it in the air thoughtfully.

***

Their life is dominated by a new routine: an early breakfast is followed by visiting the horse, then they spend lunchtime at their own beach before the afternoon training, after which they return to their house for the evening and night. Everything is done in close companionship, with more or less intimate action sprinkled in between. They still don't talk a lot, or maybe just Chris doesn't, while Leonard can't stop blathering to fill the silence.

He regularly gives Chris physiotherapy sessions, which his lover accepts without complains, but it's the work with Ashaire that has the greatest effect on Chris' recovery process. The cane discarded, Chris is walking fine on his own aside from rare moments when he's really tired and less steady on his feet. Chris' overall mood has improved remarkably, and he's a little more willing to speak outside of the bedroom. It still takes a week before Chris exchanges some words with Iro, and Leonard is inwardly breaking the champagne when he watches them from a distance, talking about the stallion — _of course_.

He's not surprised when they end in Iro's house a few days later. The large room they're shown to is filled with screens, tracking the medium-sized empire the technology tycoon has erected in Federation space and beyond. Their host explains some of the information they can see on the walls, detailing a few of the problems he's currently working on with his distributed team of advisors. The man's doing a great job in opening the door to discussions without asking Chris for opinions right away. It's still very obvious that IXOS Transplanetary wouldn't be averse to having the strategic experience of former Fleet Admiral Christopher Pike at its disposal.

After this day, training units with the horse usually end with lunch in the control room, George being the avid servant, secretary, and man for everything else that needs to get brought in or carried out of the highly secured area, while Iro and Leonard talk and Chris listens, contributing a little more every day.

At times, Leonard might be jealous of the sparks of interest Iro's expositions can elicit but he knows that the only way Chris will really recover is when his lover finds his own inner strength and center again.

And for that, Leonard needs to let go of Chris a little more every day too.

***

The days go quickly, the original idea of Dael and him spending a few days on a vacation of their own soon discarded over the many meetings about the _Enterprise_ refit that Jim feels he needs to attend. Dael herself hadn't seemed eager to leave either and alluded to a project that she's currently working on for Intel that might be important for her further career. She also helps a friend of hers — some Caitleen or something — in an engineering project, which eats up a full week which Jim isn't very happy about, but he doesn't want to stand in the way of her future (he definitely sympathizes with Chris here).

When Dael takes him to Arissa's place for the party he's been promised, he's damn ready for an evening during which he can enjoy himself without guarding his every move, hoping that their host knows what she's talking about regarding security.

He's in black leather pants and a white shirt, not having managed to buy a really hot outfit yet. In stark contrast to that and by his explicit request, Dael wears the outfit she wore at the Rainbow Ball, all yellow wet-look pieces showing lots of skin, and those incredible boots. The second she leaves her bedroom in it, he wants to go down on her and after an appreciating moment does so, considering giving head to her a perfect start to the evening. Her orgasm leaves a red flush on Dael's cheeks, causing Arissa to give them a knowing, appreciating smirk when she opens the door to them.

The location mostly consists of one large, high-ceiled dance hall and four adjacent smaller rooms, two of them with tables and chairs, the other two with beds and toys. The dance floor is already full and the two bars crowded, laser lights flickering through the half-dark with the psychedelic music a hypnotizing flow embedding everything. For a moment, they socialize with others, then Dael sends him off to have fun while she reconnects with some more friends. After all, it's her first party appearance since her mission.

Soon, Jim's a part of the crowd, dancing like he hadn't danced in years, his vision a blur of colors and the sounds carrying him away into the bouncing rhythm, wonderful bodies moving all around him with arms high, guys and girls of all colors and species in motion. He's floating, flying, free and careless, the things that weigh him down forgotten, even Dael not his concern in this moment.

Someone catches his eyes, a tall, nicely meaty guy dancing right in front of him. He's bare-chested and shaven, with long sexy legs clad in skin-tight, blue stretch material, bright-green eyes sparkling in a face framed by short, silver-colored curls. When the guy catches him looking, Jim smiles invitingly, and it doesn't take long before they're dancing together face to face, hands on each other's hips. The first kiss is perfect and hot enough to make Jim's knee buckle a little; he's still so damn underfucked that it's a miracle it doesn't leak out of his ears. Not that the guy seems to mind as he pulls Jim's hips a little closer, making their dance a rather good approximation to frottage now that they're both rock-hard.

The guy leans forward. "Want to move this somewhere else?" he asks, flicking his tongue out to sensually lick Jim's earlobe, before pulling back and adding with a twinkle, "We don't have to — Arri doesn't mind a little show on the floor."

Jim needs a second to parse _Arri_ as _Arissa_ , then shakes his head. "Better to move somewhere else." If he were a little inebriated, having a crowd watching might cater to his exhibitionist tendencies, but he's as sober as he could be in an atmosphere like this, and still a little too nervous about a picture of him in flagranti making it out of these rooms. As they leave the dance floor, he catches a glimpse of Dael who beams as she sees them, giving him an encouraging nod before turning back to the man she's been talking to.

The room the guy chooses isn't completely empty, as to be expected, but still a lot more private. The guy pulls him down in an inviting corner before crouching over him for more kisses and a snakelike dance of agile hips that leaves Jim breathlessly horny. Their pants quickly gone, they're soon onto it with everything they've got, hands and lips and cocks. When Jim comes, he's out for a second because it blows him away, the gorgeous orgasm merging with the arousing noises of others, the subdued music from the dance hall, and a fabulously sexy guy in his arms whose strong body covers him like a blanket of hot skin.

They cuddle for quite a while afterwards, too done for another round but not inclined to part yet, although they don't feel like speaking, don't even exchange names when they finally draw apart, restore their looks as far as possible, and walk back to the dance hall.

"Need to go, got to work tonight," the guy says apologizing as he makes a first step towards the entry. "It was great, loverboy. Have a wonderful night." He kisses Jim with a bit of heated tongue in the mix, then leaves towards the checkroom.

"Do you know who that was?" Dael whispers unusually excitedly as she suddenly appears at his side, hooking her arm into his. "That was Norden, the singer of _A Taste of Mondrian_!"

"Never heard of them," he replies, a little lie as of course he knows about this band, top chart inhabitants for the last years. He totally doesn't care if he'd had a celebrity fuck as long as the guy doesn't either. "And I'm not going to get an autograph for you," he teases, before noticing her face falling a little — obviously she really cares about that singer, and he could be nice about it.

"If I see him again, I'll get one for you," he says, doubting that would ever happen. "Come on, let's dance." Using a quick diversion strategy, he pulls her onto the dance floor, having every intention to make her evening as good as his has already been.

***

Chris wants to have a boat, and so Leonard organizes one. It's small but with a sun shade, and they need to take care that they don't drift too far, but it's fun to row out onto the sea after the afternoon training with Ashaire. Leonard does the rowing, because Chris is tired from the day, lying on the pillows they'd distributed in the boat to make it comfortable for whatever activities they have in mind, lube, condoms and towels close by.

He likes watching Chris like this, sexily stretched out without an ounce of self-consciousness about his looks. Not too many people have that kind of relationship with their own body, and it reminds him of Jim and their first vacation together, which had been a cheap last-minute-weekend trip to Florida after one especially exhausting week at the academy. They'd rented a motorboat and tried to see a few crocodiles, but essentially, they'd spent the whole weekend just going at it like bunnies. He smiles a little wistfully over the memories; it feels like it's been ages since he'd been that mad about Jim.

"What are you thinking?" Chris asks curiously.

"Nothing in particular," Leonard says lightly. "Though now that you ask… you could improve the scenery for me." Jim had always liked to jerk off to him watching, and he had little doubt Chris would be just as willing to deliver a little show.

"Could I?" A lazy smile curls the edges of Chris' mouth.

"Why don't you give yourself a hand, warm yourself up."

Chris rolls a little over to give Leonard a better view, running his left hand down between his legs. "Like that?" he asks as he curls his fingers around his dick, gently pulling the still soft member.

"Exactly," Leonard says and licks his lips.

The erection slowly grows in size as Chris keeps rubbing, now with eyes turned to slits but with his gaze still on Leonard.

"The first time I had sex on a boat was during my academy times," Chris says, taking Leonard a little by surprise.

"Ah. That instructor?"

"Yes." His fingers slowly teasing the shaft, Chris' eyes wander off. "He liked to joke about my reluctance to undress and show off for him, so he made it his personal mission to cure me from that."

"Did he?" Leonard's good mood takes a sharp dive upon hearing the word _cure_. "There's nothing bad about not wanting to show off."

"No." His lover spreads his legs farther while keeping on fisting himself. "It was just his preference."

"And you liked to please him?"

"Yes."

"Did you love him?"

That makes Chris pause in his movements. He looks back at Leonard with a thoughtful smile. "It wasn't about that." He suddenly goes on all fours and crawls over to Leonard, kneeling down between his slightly spread knees in a shocking posture of offering, palms flat on his upper thighs.

"Tell me what you want, doc. Anything," Chris says beggingly, and Leonard is stunned to silence by the sight, his throat constricted by the sudden vision of a much younger Chris wanting nothing more than to please a man he'd accepted as authority. The rudder blades sag into the water as his grip on them loosens. He badly needs to find a good answer, can't simply say _no_ or voice his heart-felt opinion that any person who's abusing his rank within Starfleet to get his hands on young cadets should be shoved out dishonorably by a public tribunal, because that would apply to Chris just the same. He'd really like to attribute Chris' current behavior to his psychotic episode, but he fears there's an easier, albeit more frustrating explanation available.

With a sigh he lets the oars go for good and cradles Chris' face in his hands, running his thumbs over softly crinkled skin. "I want nothing that you don't want to give freely," he says.

Confusion mirrors in Chris' eyes. "The games we played…"

"It's still always about you wanting it. If you say stop, I'll stop."

"I won't say stop," Chris says simply, and the tight feeling in Leonard's chest increases a tenfold.

 _And that's the truth_ , he thinks. Chris won't say stop in a scene once he'd said yes and turned himself over to a higher authority. Whether he really couldn't or just wouldn't, out of some misunderstood ideal of how a scene should look like, Chris won't say stop. No wonder Chris hadn't subbed in ages; at least he has _some_ sense of self-preservation left.

Well, if that bastard had set out to turn Chris into the perfectly obedient plaything, it would be his job to teach his lover healthy boundaries in a scene, Leonard thinks with a clenched jaw. Someday in the future, when Chris would be ready to deal with the subtleties of what _consensual_ really means. For now, though, he just wants to make Chris understand that he doesn't have to please him with such offers.

He pulls Chris up and kisses him lovingly. "You already give me everything I need," he says. "Can't get any more perfect."

Then he carefully maneuvers Chris onto the pillows and gives him the best possible blowjob.

***

There is another party, another place, another setting, and this time Jim is licking his lips in nervous excitement as they depart their cab.

He's always liked to submit to women. It's not a must-have, he could just as well fill the traditional male part, be active and in the lead, but submitting to a woman's desire has an incredibly freeing effect on him, more so than when he does it with men. He doesn't feel in competition, can just relax to the erotic tension of those moments — and with Dael, following her lead had come easily and painlessly from the get-go because it'd been so much safer.

There had been a lot of tension back then on the first day of all of them being together, and Jim would've hated to see it go to hell due to him doing anything wrong with her, stepping over any of her vaguely discussed boundaries. But they'd worked perfectly together, kinky and experimental without going to extremes, everything sexy and consensual and _safe_. Dael is as much of a gentle caretaker nature as Bones, and that knowledge alone makes Jim feel protected.

Now that he follows her upstairs to Arissa's bi-level apartment on top of an old house in the outskirts of San Francisco, he's both excited and a little nervous. What they'd have tonight — if he went with it — might be the most intense session he'd had in a while. He likes challenges, still rarely backs down from them, but he's reached his limit lately regarding the things he can deal with, and so there's a tiny edge of fear as Dael leads him into a room that looks like an office, and tells him to strip.

Swallowing hard for a moment, he does as ordered, eyes locked with hers. When he's done, he stands straight, hands laced behind his back and a light tremble in his body, from his nerves and the cool air of the room.

"Easy," she whispers and moves forward, cradling his neck and putting a comforting kiss on his cheek, then his mouth. She's all in leather, her hair wildly styled with blue and silver sparkles in it, her eyes emphasized with strong makeup but the tattoos unhidden, sharp and dangerous. It's in moments like these when her gaze rests on him, intense and a little challenging, that Jim keeps having tiny flashbacks to the _Narada_ and the Romulan who'd been almost successful in killing him. With effort he tears his eyes away from her face, focusing on the opposite wall instead and inhaling deeply.

She makes a few steps and sits down on a chair. "Kneel before me," she says, and he goes down. The floor is old wood, painted white. Next to her on the desk, there are items lying, half out of his sight.

"We've talk about this before," Dael says as she runs slim fingers over his face, his lips. He nods, remembering the few chats they've had about rules and regulations in the context of sexual games. "I know where your limits are, and I fear I'll keep well within them." She smiles apologetically.

"No problem," he says hoarsely. "I'd actually prefer hot and sweet tonight, if you don't mind."

Dael nods. "You'll get that, I promise." She half-turns and takes a rubber mask from the table. His throat is a little dry as she puts it on; it covers him both snug and firm as she closes it in the back of his head, leaving only eyes, nose and mouth free. The eyes, though, she covers a second later, leaving him effectively blind. He takes a deep breath as he acclimates to the change of perception, drawing his attention to sound, touch and smell alone. Dael's got a faint, spicy scent on her that lingers on his lips after she runs her fingers over them, teasing him into kissing them. Outside, people are moving, a distant sound of modern music in the air. The room seems even cooler than before, and he shivers again.

"We'll be ready soon," Dael says. Something like a belt goes around his waistline and leather cuffs around his wrists, then locked to the belt behind his back, left and right of his spine. It leaves him defenseless and exposed, but it also eases his nerves and helps him reach the state of mind in which he can let things happen to him instead of wanting to be the master of the scene.

It'd taken Bones a long time until Jim could go quite that far that easily, and he's very proud and sure of himself, all of a sudden. Maybe he doesn't have to prove anything to Dael, but they'd meet more of Arissa's exclusive circle of kinky friends out there, and last thing he wants is people joking about Jim Kirk being all hot air — _weak_.

The impulse to prove something, to pretend he's cool, collected and in control even in his current state lasts through her locking a pair of ankle cuffs with a longer chain in between, but crumbles a little as she applies a last detail. The rather large gag fills half of his mouth, spreading his teeth almost uncomfortably. He's fighting the impulse to push it out and doesn't completely succeed, but she wins out and buckles it up.

"Easy," she says again, her quickened breathing signaling her increased arousal. Suddenly there's her hand in his, pressing it. "I'll watch you at all times, I'll see when you get uncomfortable. When we do something more intense, I'll hold your hand. Press three times if you're not okay and want to stop the scene, then we'll talk immediately. Three times is stop. Understood?"

He nods, and does a test run on her order. Knowing she'll be there calms him a little, and he's quite steady on his feet when she helps him up and leaves the room with him, joining the others. He can feel the change of ground; the old creaky wood of the office changes to cool, sleek parquet flooring in the corridor and to icy stone stairs as they go up and finally to soft carpet as they walk into a rather overheated room. The chill of the walk, increased by the sweat running down his neck and back, is tempered within seconds as Deal carefully leads him along until he's ordered to stop. There are voices of men and women, subdued and further dampened by the mask covering his ears; there's the smell of candles and alien incense, a bit heavier than he would have preferred. The atmosphere is cheerful but also a little hushed, concentrated and focused in the way the best play parties are, and he inhales again, willing his shoulder muscles to relax.

"I'm going to sit down, and you'll kneel before me," Dael whispers. "There's a large cushion right in front of you."

He's going to have to trust her for that, and is rewarded with a very gentle landing on something fluffy that adjusts to him comfortably.

"Good boy," her voice comes in from in front of him, and her fingers cradle his hooded head. She directs him to lean forward, and so he ends with his left cheek in her lap between her spread legs, her hands massaging his shoulders and neckline. It's soothing and arousing, with the warmth adding to his settling relaxation. He's floating a little, losing himself in the moment that consists of barely anything beyond her gentle caresses and the smell of leather from her pants in his nose, again the slightly psychedelic music a layer above it all.

There are others, but he fades them out; they're irrelevant. So when at last someone touches him, running hands down his lower back and ass, he needs a moment to even register it. And then there's a slim hand holding his, Dael being his anchor, and something wet and slick runs over his hole in clear intent. It's surprising and _hot_ , and without thinking he grunts into the ball gag and stretches out his body, welcoming the touch. He doesn't know what it is, assumes it's a tongue but is fairly convinced that no human could go as deep as whatever it is eases past his ring muscle, toying with his sudden, burning need for more. The intruder seems to comply with the wish written all over his inflamed, demanding body, and takes him deeper and deeper, stimulating him in ways that brings him completely under, turns him into a heap of pure need for release —

— and he orgasms just like that, his balls contracting and propelling his come painfully out of his hard cock, his deep groan caught by the gag.

When he comes up from the gigantic explosion, he curls in Dael's lap, rubbing his head against her body in the absolute need to get closer. She wraps her arms around him like a shelter, whispering beautiful things into his ear — in Romulan, no less, it's becoming a weird fetish between them — and he whimpers because this is _oh-so-good_ and it's still only the beginning.

He's never loved her more than in this moment.

***

On the other side of the planet, Leonard lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what Jim is doing right now. To his right, Chris is still asleep, the horse training and the meds taking more toll than they should, and he runs his fingers over the soft, warm body in a strange impulse to prove to himself that this is the here and now.

He'd craved this for so long, sometimes he wonders if he'd craved more an illusion than reality. Chris is marvelous but he's still also just a man, no miracle worker, no sex god to be put on a pedestal, and he'd probably done that at times. Had made him larger than life, had fallen more for the possibilities than for facts, ignored the feet of clay Chris had like everyone else.

Maybe it's the same for Chris; despite their intentions to keep the other two out of this vacation, he sometimes catches him staring at one of Dael's paintings, or idly playing with one of the pens she's left. In fact, all of her art equipment is still here, and at times Leonard wonders what that means. An " _I can't paint without you_ " or maybe a promise, " _I'll be back if you need me_ "? In any case, the reminders of her former presence are everywhere, in the little notes she's left for Chris at various places, her spices in the kitchen, the t-shirt she forgot and that now hangs over one of the bedroom chairs, Chris' favorite spot at the beach which had been her choice originally. Sometimes, Leonard feels like an intruder into something that would be round without him, wonders if he's more part of the problem than the solution.

But whenever this happens, Chris looks at him like he does now, the gaze of sleepy blue slowly clearing, a smile growing on those beautiful lips, an invitation written all over those open features… and Leonard gets weak, unable to resist this lure.

 _"I said I was yours and I meant it,"_ Chris had stated in his recording, when he'd bared his soul in a way that Leonard hadn't expected at all. _"But it's not something I should ever have said, you know? Just another Pandora's box, a box in a box and you keep opening the lids and then leave me hanging there with new knowledge."_

He'd listened to it so often, and it never gets easier, because Chris had been right, Leonard had pushed for confessions he hadn't been ready for.

 _"I need to know you can deal with what happens when you unlock those parts of me that I don't let out usually."_

Can he really deal with it any better today?

 _"You can have all of me. Just be sure what you do."_ After what he'd learned about Chris on the boat, his lover had meant it exactly that — all of him, without limits. A scary offer, and still…

He rolls them over and makes love to Chris in a fervid flare of wanting.

***

In mind-boggling contrast to their last event, Jim and Dael spend the next weekend at Tom's farm for a little family gathering.

Maybe he should feel weird, but there's something soothing about attending a barbecue in the middle of Chris' chosen, accepting family. Despite Chris' statement that Tom and he are very different, they're both easy-going men and have no problem connecting over various subjects like that really hot motorbike that HoKiBa presented at the last Moscow Car Show and serious discussions about the perfect steak preparation. At first, Tom's two kids claim Dael's focus, but then Nat pries her away from them. They sit on the veranda together for a long time, no doubt talking about Chris, while he, Tom and his wife Cornelia have a beer together and teach Tom's younger girl how to flip the sausages.

 _A great way to spend one's Sunday._

When they leave, Jim invites Nat to come visit them, but she declines, saying, "From the first day I knew Chris, he's always been funny about his living space. Extremely protective. I've never gone into any of his rooms or apartments without explicit invitation by him, and I can't help but seeing the apartment as _his_ apartment. I know that it's become more than that, that Dael lives there and you too, but still… I'll visit you when he's back. "

"Okay," Jim says, understanding her reasoning without necessarily sharing the feeling. He looks for Dael and finds her down on one knee saying good-bye to the kids, promising them she'll return soon. The scene is a picture of domesticity, as she's patting their heads and putting kisses on slightly dirty foreheads. It could be funny or maybe a little laughable, this kind of almost unreal family idyll — but instead it's a punch to his guts, a scene materializing from the depths of his subconscious, a child's dreams forgotten for so many years. Next to him, Nat says something but it's inaudible through the white noise in his head, the realization that what was a farfetched, impulsive idea when he'd told the others could really come true.

He blinks and shakes his head. Never count your chickens before they've hatched, he's learned in his life, and this… this could be within his reach today, and out of it tomorrow.

"Jim?" He looks up, meeting Dael's questioning gaze.

"All fine," he says smoothly, hiding his inner uproar. "Ready to leave?"

He's very quiet on the way back, and while she glances at him once in a while, she never starts a discussion either.

***

In agreement with Chris, Leonard slowly lowers the mood stabilizing drugs in the mix. It works well on most days, but when it doesn't, Leonard suddenly finds himself in situations that challenge him in ways he's not really prepared for. On the _Enterprise_ , everyone needs to function on 100% efficiency, and if crew members cannot meet that demand in the foreseeable future, they need to get transferred. It sounds brutal and sometimes is, considering that the _Enterprise_ crew is the most intimate family many of their members have, but they just can't offer long-time care.

Being with Chris, though, means exactly that, and with Leonard's emotional investment in him, he feels just as vulnerable at times. Throw-away lines like "what do you read?", easily said when walking into a room where Chris is hunched over his PADD, can make his lover freeze and zoom out. The explanation he receives for it once is telling, but doesn't really ease Leonard's concerns that Chris' mental stability is more fragile than it looks on most days.

 _"It's like I think I'm working on something, but when you ask, the subject of my works suddenly eludes me and that drives me crazy. I desperately try to find out what's been on my mind a second ago, or so I thought, but obviously it wasn't there to begin with, and it makes me wonder if I really think anything ever, or if this is just a big illusion."_

Another time, he makes the mistake of asking about a book. There are two paper books on Chris' nightstand, and once in a while Chris takes the upper one and opens it. For a while, Leonard assumes that Chris reads it, until he realizes that Chris never turns the page.

Just — _never_.

At the next opportunity, he takes a closer look at the book. It's written in Romulan, not a language Leonard has ever learned beyond a few basic words. It's usually enough that Jim and Uhura are fluent in it; he's a doctor, not a translator. He hadn't known Chris could read Romulan, but abstains from asking about it until the next time Chris is sprawled on his stomach in bed, on his pillow the book opened at the same position as always. Leonard lies down next to him, putting one hand on Chris' shoulder for connecting. Chris turns his head to look at him with a small smile.

"Must be an interesting text," Leonard says softly. "What is it about?" He'd thought he'd done everything right this time, and given that the book is physically in Chris' hand, the simple question shouldn't throw Chris into a loop. But the moment his question registers with Chris, he can see the expression of ease change into something else between realization and horror and…

His breath gets caught in his lungs as he sees tears pooling in Chris' blue eyes, sees a stream of water streak down one cheek. They run silently, not a sound leaving Chris' lips as his lover just keeps looking at him with devastation in his eyes.

"Oh, Chris," he says, heart-broken and close to tears himself although he hasn't the least clue what had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" He shakily places one hand on Chris' cheek, catching the wet trail with his thumb. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Closing his eyes, Chris leans into his touch, the tears collecting at the crook between Leonard's thumb and forefinger. He presses kisses on Chris' forehead, pulling him close and into an embrace to hold onto him until the last of the tears run dry.

He doesn't get an explanation, but he also never again sees Chris opening the book.

***

Whenever they attend any of Arissa's parties, Dael is on the dom side with him, and Jim doesn't mind because he knows it's mostly a way to protect herself from assumptions many might make about a girl of her stature. But there's another side to her, and one evening he comes home to them having a visitor — Arissa is there, sprawled on her back on the couch with Dael in her lap, both very much undressed.

He's about to quietly move away from the living room door when Arissa notices him and waves him in.

"We've been waiting for you," she says. "Why don't you strip and join us?" Running one hand over Dael's beautifully tattooed back, she adds, "We'd really love that, wouldn't we, my darling girl?" Dael slightly shifts her head, very much giving the impression of someone who's been thoroughly fucked already over the course of the however many hours they've been going at it, for Arissa likes it long and intense, and nods.

Jim laughs and starts stripping out of his uniform. He'd followed enough of Arissa's suggestions over their previous meetings to know this would be good; he's really come to like this woman, who's so self-assured and mature and still hot and kinky, almost like a female, more social version of Chris, which might well be the reason why Chris isn't as enamored by her as Dael and Jim are.

Once Jim's nude, he walks over to them. Arissa moves a little, rearranging Dael so that Jim could kneel down between their legs. He deeply inhales as he sees the large dildo Dael's impaled on, his cock jumping encouraged at the sight. Her pucker is dusted in the room's toned-down light, dry and tight as he runs his knuckles over it. She answers his touch with a low moan.

"I see you got the idea," Arissa says appreciatingly. "Take the bottle next to you. Yes, almond. We really need to get away from this annoying vanilla smell." She smirks, a dozen laugh lines jumping into action. "Get some on her and then finger her. Just your fingers."

As he obeys, Arissa keeps offering advice. "Use your thumbs, don't go too deep. Make it slow at first, then speed up a little." Raising her knees, she spreads Dael's legs farther apart, holding her in position with her hands on Dael's butt while looking at Jim over her shoulder. "Yes, good, Jim, not too fast, give her time. Can you hear her getting closer? She's really got a sensitive ass, can have such cute orgasms just from fingers, just take your time. Men always think going fast does the trick, but it doesn't."

He's a little annoyed at the assumption that he and possibly Chris would need any tutoring in pleasing Dael, but when she suddenly pushes against his fingers with a groan and convulses, a shudder running through all of her body, he's got to agree that this is definitely the first _anal_ orgasm any woman ever achieved on his fingers. With a breathless chuckle, he puts kisses on Dael's back up to her neck, patting her ass when she relaxes again, her breathing slowing down.

"Lovely darling," he whispers, "so beautiful when you come." Dael's back is flushed red, and her ears are positively burning, both from the orgasm and the obvious embarrassment she feels, quite avoiding looking at him.

"Yes, she is," Arissa agrees. "Just don't stop, we only got started."

"Oh no, please…" Dael whimpers but doesn't seem to mean it, as the second his finger dives into her hole again, she strains against it with a low gasp. They manage three more orgasms before Jim's finally allowed to give his aching, leaking cock the much-needed release too, in the end bathed in sweat after a long, drawn-out fuck of her beautiful ass.

After her last orgasm and still impaled on both their cocks, Dael breaks into tears, those deep, heartfelt sobs that shake her body. Jim's used to that particular reaction by now, and Arissa gives no sign of being surprised either, just holds her and kisses her face while Jim cradles her from behind. They keep her protectively in their middle until she's absolutely done and boneless between them. Which is such a sweet, sweet picture, and when they all unlace with little grunts and aching limbs, Jim cradles Dael for a little longer as she sits down between them, feeling so much love for her right now that it takes his breath away.

He still has something on his mind, and when Dael finally leaves for the shower, he uses the moment to pose a question to Arissa. "You're not too happy about her relationship with Chris, are you?" He's not sure why he feels the need to ask that right now, maybe just because he'd been curious about it for a while and never managed to get a hold on Arissa alone, busy as she usually is with her flock of friends and lovers.

"He's not exactly the partner I would've imagined for her, but not the worst either," Arissa lightly replies while stripping out of the dildo belt and getting dressed.

"She could get together with you…"

"Oh no, I would be absolutely the wrong person for her," she says immediately, turning to face him. "The thing she needs the most in life is a _home_ , and that's something I could never offer to her. Chris has made room for her, both in his heart and in his apartment here, without ever asking for more than she can offer in return, and that's exactly what she needs."

"Guess you're right," he says with a thoughtful nod.

"Speaking of offering a home — considering that you and your doctor have a room here too, I guess he also meets some of your needs there?" she states, not really a question.

"Maybe," Jim says a little evasively. They hadn't asked for the room, he'd wanted them to have it; but she's right that they want something like that, the farm idea definitely springing from the wish of having a place where they could all be together.

When Dael returns, they show Arissa out together, then he takes a shower too before joining his lover in the kitchen.

"It's experimental," she says with an apologetic smile as he eyes the strangely smelling mixture in the pot. "But I guess I'm too outfucked for cooking."

"Will it kill me?"

"I hope not," she says amused, and sends him to prepare the table. When he's done, he sits down and watches her, imagining how she'd look in one of those large farm kitchens — and failing. Dael's a lot of things but not really a _housewife_ , as she proves just minutes later when she sinks down next to him with a frustrated sigh.

"One of the biggest dreams in my life — having a housekeeper for us," she says, waving at the pot. "It _might_ kill you indeed."

He only laughs and kisses her, relieved to get torn out of his cliché moment.

They go out for dinner.

***

Despite moments of irrational behavior, on other days Chris is willing and able to face reality, sometimes to a degree that it catches Leonard by surprise.

"Why McAllister?" Chris asks one another lazy, hot afternoon, when they're laced together on the couch, still digesting the gorgeous lunch Iro had thrown today. Leonard is half seated with his back to one armrest and a PADD in one hand, Chris loosely in his arms.

"Hmm?" Unsure what exactly the question is, Leonard hesitates.

Chris stares at the ceiling. "Whenever I think of him, I wonder — why him? He never was involved in the task force in any way. He was never a member of it, and for all I know, he never even tried being one."

Leonard scoots up a little, putting the PADD aside. "You're right. Obviously, his obsession started from a little side remark that Nogura made in a meeting with him; that if you had to go on another extended medical leave, he might be asked to take the temporary lead. Nogura admits he said so but he'd only been pondering options and McAllister wouldn't have been his first choice."

"And that was enough for him to start all this?"

"Yes, it seems to have festered over a while, until he thought his time had come."

"Unbelievable," Chris mutters and shuts his eyes, closing the discussion in one of his annoyingly abrupt endings. For a person like Leonard who's usually inclined to delve into large, broad storytelling with all kind of tangents, it's a real challenge to stop at arbitrary points.

With a subdued sigh, he picks up the PADD again, cradling his dozing lover with one hand and wondering what the next question might be.

It is posed in the same night, when they lie satiated in each other's arms. Chris' come is still on Leonard's tongue and teasing his libido into hoping for a second round because sometimes it's just too good to stop, that Chris asks him out of the blue, "What happened to Alain?"

Actually, Leonard has carefully thought about the answer to this particular question, had discussed it with Jim and John well in advance, but right now his brain isn't up to higher thought functions and so the answer comes out plain and brutal. "He's vanished from the face of Earth."

"He's vanished?" Chris' voice is teetering between surprise and disbelief. "Just like that? Left the planet?"

"Nobody could find him yet, but he doesn't seem to have left Earth."

Chris frowns at him, suddenly more than awake. "Since when is he gone?"

"You might have been the last person to see him," Leonard says. _Aside from his killer, maybe._

Chris seems to read his mind. "Do you think he's dead? Do you think… John…?"

Jim and Leonard had asked themselves the very same question, but John had denied any involvement.

 _"Trust me, if I had found Alain, I probably would've killed him after a little interrogation but unfortunately it looks as if someone else was faster,"_ John had stated coolly. _"And just as good in getting rid of the body."_

Which might be the truth — or maybe not, who knew with a man like John. In any case, this doubt shouldn't burden Chris. "He said he didn't do anything," Leonard says with all the conviction he could muster.

"Good. I would hate the idea," Chris says and falls silent.

"Chris?" Leonard asks after a while, fearing his lover had zoomed out, but Chris looks at him with clear, thoughtful eyes. "Why did you ask?"

"Not sure," Chris says. "Or maybe…" He hesitates. "Was there any truth at all in what he told me about his situation?"

"As we don't know what he told you, I can't say," Leonard replies carefully. "But the Intelligence services of the Federation and Starfleet have put together a dossier about him. I've got it on my PADD, you could read it."

"Maybe I will," Chris says neutrally. Leonard, feeling his lover pulling back into the shell, does the only viable thing — shuts up and caresses him, turning their thoughts to nicer things.

It helps that his dick really wants a second round, despite the cold shower of hearing Alain's name.

***

When Jim faces his own feelings right now, he's got to admit that hanging out with Arissa's circle of _friendsloversfamily_ is amazing and does wonderful things for his mood and libido. For the first time in years, he's in situations where he can safely give up the control that he'd thought had become absolutely ingrained. Shoreleaves have rarely been long enough to let go, and once that thing with Chris had hit off, even sex with Bones had developed a second, more complicated layer.

He doesn't mind that some people think he's Arissa's newest boytoy — which would be a compliment, considering that she's pretty selective and also rather steady when it comes to men, Toby being her oldest male lover with something like ten years of relationship. But actually, it's Dael who offers him the protected space that he needs, taking care that his few absolute boundaries are never crossed (like, certain unsafe activities and men with _belts_ ). He still misses Bones a lot — and Chris too, and whenever he's in a male sandwich, it's them he thinks about, wishing it were their hands and cocks. He doesn't have a clue how this whole thing will end, but he's currently finding his own stable center again, making sure that no matter what happens, the world (and his career and captaincy) won't fall to pieces over it, and he thinks he's doing a good job here.

So when Bones calls to announce that they'll need a bit more time on the beach, he's a little sad but not heart-broken. Bones looks good, sun-tanned and with a smile on his face.

Frankly, he looks happier than he has for a long time. If that comes from staying with Chris, then let be it so.

"How much longer, what do you think?" Jim asks.

"The horse leaves in a week, so I hope after that…"

"The _horse_?" Jim asks amused.

"We've got neighbors with a damaged horse, and true to movie history, Chris plays the horse whisperer and the horse plays animal healer."

"Sounds weird."

"It _is_ weird, but hey, as long as it works." Bones shrugs. "He's really doing a lot better. Replied to one of Nat's messages, she told me. How are things on your side?" Bones eyes him over the connection. "You look good — relaxed."

"Doing my best, and keeping away from the Admiralty if possible," Jim says.

"Dael making you happy?"

"Quite, but she's not you," Jim says softly. When Bones averts his gaze for a moment, he adds, "Sorry for saying that."

"Not at all," Bones says and looks back to him. "Miss you, Jim. Miss you really badly. Next time, we'll go on a goddamn vacation with all four of us, I promise. Even if I've got to sedate you all for it."

"You've got strange ideas," Jim says with a laugh. "If we're sedated, there's nobody to have sex with."

"Nobody to complain about, you mean." Bones grins.

Jim gravely shakes his head. "Bones, Bones… what the hell does Chris do to you that you've got such ideas?"

"He sucks my brain out of my dick," Bones concedes, "and then some."

"Good thing."

"And when we come home, I'll suck _your_ brain out of your dick."

"That a promise?" Jim asks, his heart making a leap.

"Yes."

Behind Jim, Dael walks into the room, almost leaving again before he can call her in. He pulls her into his lap.

"Leonard," she says neutrally.

Bones smiles at her. "Just told Jim we've got to remain here for a little longer, but nothing serious — just having to wait until Chris' new friend, the damn beautiful horse of our neighbors, is off-world."

"A horse — wonderful. Does he ride it too?"

"The stallion is a bit nervous, and Chris is too, but they've had a few short rides along the water by now without taking damage."

Dael sighs in relief. "He missed riding so much. I wondered if I should arrange something, but I was unsure whether he'd be able to ride and he would've been so discouraged if the attempt had failed."

"You were right to be cautious, it took him some time to get ready for it. You did a very fine job here, Dael, no doubt about that. A really great job. And he misses you a lot."

She nods sharply. "See you soon, then," she mutters and quickly leaves them.

"Everything all right with her?" Bones asks with a frown.

"Just missing Chris, I think." Jim looks after her. "Speaking of him, did you tell him about the Borg implant yet?"

"Uh, no." The frown on Bones' face deepens. "Never been the right moment so far, but I definitely need to do that before we come back."

"Yes. There's no way you could hide that in the long run. One scan of his head and —"

"I know, I know," Bones says defensively. "Just didn't want to risk it yet."

Jim wiggles his forefinger. "Do it soon, Bones. That's an order."

Bones rolls his eyes. "Yes, _sir,_ " he states with a hinted salute, before adding softly, "Love you, Jim, and see you soon. Take care, of yourself and her, will you?"

"Sure, Bones," Jim says, blowing him a kiss. "Love you too. Looking forward to having you both here."

When Bones has signed off, Jim goes to hunt down Dael.

***

Leonard leans back in his chair, stretching his legs. This had gone much better than expected. He's glad that Jim seems to be okay; he's also relieved that they still miss each other. There had been moments when he had feared Jim would set him free in some misunderstood attempt to solve the emotional mess that had developed, but he should've known Jim wouldn't budge. Just seeing his husband's relaxed face had made him so happy, and now that he's quite sure that they would indeed be fine once the four of them get together again, he almost couldn't wait to go home.

Something moves behind him, and he looks over his shoulder to find his lover on the doorstep. "You're up early," he starts, then stops as he notes the peculiar expression on Chris' face.

 _Fuck_.

"You listened, didn't you?" he asks throatily. "Let me explain —"

Chris is gone as fast as lightening, which is quite an accomplishment considering his medical history. With a curse, Leonard scrambles to his feet. A quick search of the house yields no Chris. Dressed only in shorts, he walks to the empty bedroom and hops into jeans, a shirt and shoes, before stepping out onto the veranda.

When there's nobody in sight, Leonard starts jogging towards the neighbor's ground.

***

Jim finds Dael in the living-room, crouched as usual over one of her PADDs with work she doesn't allow him to see. She seems really dedicated to it, possibly to keep him from asking how she feels. Well, maybe this moment is as good as any other for talking about something that's been on his mind lately, after a talk or two with certain bridge crew members about how to help Dael become more of an _Enterprise_ family member.

He sits down next to her. "I've got an idea, Dael. How about working on the _Enterprise_ refit with me? You still have some time until the start of the third year."

When she tears her focus from the PADD towards him, she looks fairly surprised by this suggestion. "I don't know a lot about a ship of that class. What would I do there?"

"What's your security rating by now? S10-C? We would need to get that upped a little, then you could support my yeoman. I know, bureaucracy is boring, but it would give you a great insight into the Borg project."

Now she looks definitely guilty, and he frowns. "What's the matter?"

She gets up and strides through the room for a moment before walking in front of him and standing at attention. "I've told Christopher, and I'm going to tell you now — I betrayed his trust by reading some information about the Borg project on one of his PADDs that didn't lock properly." She looks every bit the bedraggled cadet waiting for a reprimand.

"Oh." He needs a moment to think about the consequences.

 _She's really young_ , Illyon's voice suddenly rings in his head, _and young people are prone to make the wrong decisions_. And also, _Chris hadn't exerted as much caution as he should have_.

Chris most definitely hadn't done that, and they're still trying to manage the fallout. But he's not going to sacrifice Dael. Point.

Jim takes a deep breath and pats the couch seat next to him. "Sit down." She does, reluctantly.

"I'm not going to downplay that — it's a serious security breach, and should never have happened. But it would've been Chris's duty to take care of his security measures. Your curiosity is understandable — hell, it's about the only emotional drive that even Vulcans accept. But that also means he shouldn't have given you an opening."

"He trusted me completely. I'm not sure he'll ever do that again." She hangs her head. "He didn't seem to remember our discussion, but I do, and he had a big problem with my confession. I thought I'd tell him again when he's better off."

"Don't do that," Jim says spontaneously. "It'll cause more problems than solve them. You'll get through the screening for the next security levels and then you'll work with me on the Borg refit and prove that you're worth his trust."

"You'd still want me working on the refit?" she asks disbelieving.

"My PADDs are properly locked, darling, Scotty and Spock saw to that. That keeps temptation at bay." Jim chuckles. "In both directions, actually, because I only managed to hack into my medical files _once_ before Spock and Bones caught me and kicked my ass. So — yes, we all do something stupid once in a while, but it's usually not worth stoning anyone for it."

Dael looks unconvinced but slightly more relaxed.

"Or do you have any more confessions for me? Got turned into a Romulan counteragent or anything?" Because that's something that crosses Jim's mind once in a while and would be lot worse than a few outdated Borg reports. "Just kidding," he says quickly as he sees her face freezing to a mask.

"No, you weren't," she says, blinking. "I… I'll get some coffee." She walks out. His first impulse is to follow her immediately, but he's got in the back of his mind that it's not always recommended procedure, and so he waits for a few minutes.

Only then does he realize that she's left the apartment.

***

"You seen Chris?" Leonard breathlessly asks George as he hits the stables. "Where's Ashaire?"

"He took him for a ride, outside on the streets," George answers instantly. "I knew something was wrong when he took him without the saddle."

"Dammit," Leonard grunts and keeps running up to the main gate. Breathing heavily, he bends forward as he's outside, looking left and right without result. Behind him, hasty steps are audible on the gravel.

"What's wrong?" Iro draws up next to him, concern clouding his face.

"Chris overheard something and left before I could properly explain it to him." One arm folded across his chest, Leonard slowly can breathe again. "Shit, shit, shit!" He kicks a stone on the ground, mad at himself.

"George, get the car," Iro orders. Minutes later, they start their search.

***

Arissa doesn't answer his call, so he tries Farnham's place next. Which turns out to be a big error when John's barbed _didn't take him long to fuck up, did it?_ from the back overshadows Eric's calm voice who confirms his first idea.

"You're an asshole," Arissa says icily when she opens her door to him.

"Guess so," Jim says contritely. "Let me in anyway?"

She lets him in, slamming the door after him. "You even know what you're doing to her? She thinks she's for once found people who trust her and don't see the enemy in her, and you go and ruin it all. Why don't you just stab her with a real knife, she'd take that lot better. You ass."

He closes his eyes, taking her insults silently in the full knowledge that he'd failed Dael (and Chris, this way — and Bones for the matter, because he has standing orders to take care of Dael). Arissa is always a force of nature, but this is the first time he's the focus of one of her rare, infamous explosions.

"You think they'd just let her come back if she'd been turned by the Romulan Empire? Do you really think that? She went on that mission to prove to the whole fucking world that she's worth something on her own. That she's not just an extension of Chris or you. And then she came back and instead of the medal she should have gotten, she had to pick up everyone's pieces and then get beaten up for that by you."

He doesn't have a good defense line here, but she doesn't seem to expect an answer as she sweeps forward. He follows her in silence through the two-storey apartment and up another, more hidden stairway.

"She's in here. Gave her a light sedative. You fuck this up and I swear to the bloody daughter of Kali, you'll be in serious trouble. Both you and Chris." Arissa glares at him one last time, then vanishes, obviously intending to remove herself from his company before she might feel compelled to slap him with more than just words.

Jim quietly opens the door. Dael is curled on the bed, almost completely hidden by two voluminous blankets of dark-brown gold which perfectly fit into the atmosphere of _1001 Nights_ in the whole room. He's got little doubt that this is Arissa's own private bedroom, despite the surprising design which he absolutely wouldn't have expected for her, and is extra careful as he approaches Dael.

After a long moment of evaluating his options, he quietly strips down to his underwear and pulls away the blankets just enough to slip underneath them, curling against Dael's warm body with a small sigh.

 _We really need such comfy bedding_ is his last thought before he falls asleep.

***

Driving around on the terraformed dream island, they're looking for Chris for an absurdly long time, considering that a man on a horse shouldn't be able to hide in bright daylight on streets flanked by highly secured properties. But then Leonard learns that there are paths over some synthetic hills where a car would be of no help, so they park and go searching by foot.

"There's a cliff up there," Iro says and points towards the north. "They wanted to make the island interesting."

"A cliff?" Leonard asks disturbed, then gathers speed without waiting for the others to catch up.

His heart seems to stop when he sees the black horse — alone.

"Fuck." He all but runs upwards now, holding his breath as his eyes fall on Chris, standing at the very edge of the artificial deathtrap. On the sound of his steps, Chris turns around to look at him.

"Chris, please… let me explain…" Leonard says pleadingly, opening his arm in a helpless gesture of surrender.

His lover raises a hand, signaling him to halt. "Don't. I — I knew something was different," Chris says hoarsely. "But I didn't want to know. I kept telling myself that I can regulate the influx of things…keep away from information that challenges me. I remember that Dael told me something and I forgot what it was. I wanted to forget. If you tell me now… I'll probably forget too."

"It's your decision," Leonard says, unable to lie in this critical moment. "It's got nothing to do with your brain, and you know that." His heart aches as he sees the utter pain on Chris' face, the battle of which road to take. Stretching out one hand towards Chris, he adds, "I know it's hard, and you're tired of fighting. But if you stay in this gigantic illusion, what will you do in a month, a year? Do you want to end in some institution, picking flowers all day?"

He's taken aback by the harsh snort Chris makes. "John told you, huh? Told you all how crazy I am." His eyes drift over the cliff, down to the water that's out of Leonard's sight. "I don't know if I can bear it. I want to be stronger but every little thing just hits me as if all shields are down. And I'm not sure it'll get better again."

"Of course it's getting better — hell, you already got a lot better. Think about the last month… Ashaire, and the discussions with Iro. The fun we had." And, a little more quiet, "The love we made."

Chris wipes his palm over his face. "Is any of that real, doc? Is anything I experience truly mine and not insinuated into my mind by medicine, drugs, or whatever technology that has been put into my head?"

"Is anything of what I feel real?" Leonard asks and cautiously moves forward. "I think it is, but is there proof for any of us? No." He gets close enough to touch Chris' hand, taking it gently without pulling him away from the edge. He's learned something from watching the training of the anxious stallion.

"But this is as real as it gets for me, because when I touch you, my heart starts pounding and my chest hurts. I want to move the goddamn world to make you better and I hate myself for not being able to the way I should. It hurts, loving you fucking hurts at time, but it also tells me that I'm still alive and able to feel." He kind of runs out of steam, at loss for words as Chris looks at him with bland blue eyes, still waiting for the one sentence that would fix this mess or at least make him decide to step away from the cliff.

Leonard tightens his grip slightly. "Feel my hand. This is real. Inhale the air, smell the sea. Feel your feet on the ground and the sun in your back and the wind on your face. All this is real. No medicine or implants will do this."

Chris blinks, his hand slightly answering Leonard's touch. "It's not… about the Borg, or the _Narada_ ," he says quietly. "I can't remember what exactly Alain did, but he… healed me. Took away those dreams and the feeling of panic that struck me in unexpected moments. Pacified that part of me that always recoiled over the new technology, deep in my guts. No matter how often I told myself that it's necessary and important… I hated it." His eyes drift down to their laced hands. "It's not that it's a Borg implant. I guess you didn't have much choice when you decided I need it. It's just… it takes every illusion away from me that I can become… _whole_ again, live by my own means. It's like I keep stealing my life from the universe like a thief, cheating on it until, one day…"

Inwardly, Leonard shakes his head about this strange way of thinking and that Chris considers Alain's action to have a positive result, when effectively Alain had messed with his memory in the worst way. It was mere chance that Chris hadn't come out far more seriously damaged. But this isn't the moment for that particular discussion, he'd happily leave that to the future shrink.

"You're no more cheating than humans were from the first moment they carved a weapon out of stone," he says instead, unable not to smile about the sudden image of Chris as caveman. "If anyone cheats, it's modern medicine, and hey, I can live perfectly with it. I'll cheat death any day, for anyone. But especially for you," he adds and tightens his hold some more, running his thumb over Chris' hand.

Chris follows the move with his eyes for a moment before looking up at him. "I want to live. Really live, not just… exist here. I want to go home and see Dael. I'm just not sure if I'm ready. If I ever will be."

Leonard's smile deepens. "Just by stating it like this I'd say you're quite ready to try, Chris. Not saying it will be easy, but hey, you've got Dael and me — and Jim — covering your back when you need it, and nobody's got the guts to meddle with such a trio, would they? And what's best, it's absolutely your choice what you're going to do with your new life. I just hope we'll be a part of it. I'll be a part of it."

There's a shudder running through his lover's body, before Chris finally makes a step, towards him, away from that damn cliff, and Leonard fights the impulse to tear him away. Chris needs to choose, Chris needs to make that leap towards life outside on his own, and he draws back a little to give Chris more room.

"Leonard…" Chris whispers as he's standing right in front of him, running one shaky hand over Leonard's face before drawing him into a kiss. The kiss merges into an embrace, strong and intimate but without desperation, just a wonderful promise for the future.

When they part, they don't really find words to say, so they walk down and away from the fake-but-too-real crag in silence, their hands tightly laced. Down at the horse Iro and George are waiting for them, arms loosely slung around each other and for the first time really looking like a couple to Leonard.

When they reach them, the men move away a bit, looking at them expectantly.

"I want Ashaire," Chris says without preamble.

"I know," Iro answers instantly, a smile tugging at his lips. "I've already prepared a deed of donation — I just waited for you to ask. He'll be a wonderful breeding stallion."

Leonard probably shouldn't feel that surprised, considering none of them had ever really stopped thinking about Jim's goddamn farm idea, but he still gapes at Chris upon that statement. Chris shrugs and smirks a little, then nods towards Iro.

"I'll walk him back to your stables," Chris says. "You're coming, doc?" He waves to Ashaire, and the black horse starts trotting after him as docile as a lamb.

Slightly dumbfounded and suddenly depleted of all energy, now that the intense adrenaline rush of the last half an hour has subsided, Leonard would rather take the car for the at least four miles, but he's not going to let Chris walk alone. "Hmm, yeah," he mutters, giving the other couple an apologizing gaze before chasing after Chris who's already some steps ahead of him, with Ashaire nuzzling his right ear with sweaty nostrils.

Jealous of a horse? Absolutely.

***

The second Dael moves, he's wide awake, finding himself face to face with her. Her sleepy gaze instantly clears as she sees him, her expression going from relaxed to unreadable in the wink of an eye.

"Dael… I'm sorry." When she doesn't say a thing, he hastens on. "It was a shitty remark, and I didn't mean it. Not like that at least. Okay, I'm a little nervous — after what happened to Chris, I'm definitely more cautious because I really want to keep my captaincy for a lot longer, and I had moments in which I wondered if you'd been placed with him on somebody else's agenda. Which is crap, I know, but hey, a little paranoia is probably normal after everything. And I don't doubt that more than one person in the admiralty would love to get me out of the way right now."

There's that silence again which makes him feel tense and vulnerable. He can deal perfectly well with people throwing fits, but not with Dael's blank, unresponsive face.

"I trust you. You know that, right? All the things we did, the parties you took me to — I wouldn't have done that without trusting you really, really far. There's nobody beyond Bones and Chris that I trust that much." He shifts uncomfortably as the silence persists, like a layer of ice-cold snow over the room. "Please — say something."

Her gaze still locked with his, she finally takes a deep breath. "I had people thinking I was a Romulan spy for years. Why should I believe you that it's different here?" She looks away from him. "The only one who always trusted me is Christopher, even though seeing my tattoos hurt him for so long."

"That's not true. I trusted you since the first time we talked, really talked, after Raol's death. When you told me about your family, what you did for him. How you protected him." Jim's throat is tight. "When I realized that if _you_ had been my older sister, you wouldn't have left me to my misery like Sam did. That's when I started trusting you, and I never stopped, irrational concerns and all. I know you always take care of the ones you love. Maybe I'm just a little envious that Chris gets more of that than I do."

He cautiously puts one hand on her hip, wishing he could ease her tension — wishing he'd be _allowed_. "I want to do the same for you, take care of you, but you make that so hard. You've got these walls around you, and it's a lot worse than before your mission. I know we piled a lot of shit into your lap, and I'm sorry for that. But why don't you give us a chance to do the same for you? Listen to you when you want to speak your mind. I know you're sworn to silence but that doesn't mean that you can't talk about anything at all — even if Intel might've put it like that. You're not alone in this, Dael, not like you think. Give us a chance. Give _me_ a chance."

Her body shifts, one of her hands half pushing him away, half holding onto him as if she can't make up her mind. "You wouldn't want to know," she says. "You all think you know me but you don't know me at all, and you wouldn't want me anymore anyway if you found out."

"I don't think there's anything that would make us love you any less," Jim says softly as he keeps his hold on her, his fingers splayed on her hip to keep contact without making it appear as if he'd force her to stay. His statement might not be completely true, he can imagine deal breakers, but he's got the strong impression that this here is about something the men all have already gone through in their careers.

She shakes her head, a sudden flicker of despair in her eyes.

"What did you need to do on that mission, Dael? Did they order you to kill someone?"

 _Full hit_ , he thinks as her eyes turn a little watery and hell, he wants her to cry because sometimes this is the fucking best, first step towards recovery, as he'd learned the hard way. But the tears don't break.

"No, they _didn't_ ," she says tightly, her crushing grip on his waist signaling her inner uproar. "They didn't. I made the decision. It was me alone. I did it, because I didn't want to fail. I couldn't have come back and looked into his eyes if I had failed."

He tugs her a fraction closer towards him. "He wouldn't have judged you for it."

"He didn't want me to take that mission, and I went anyway. I couldn't fail, I would've done anything to succeed and it all backfired, I've ruined everything." Her voice is toneless but her body's trembling, showing all the emotions she tries to hide. Jim cradles her, wishing someone had held him like this after the total disaster he'd caused with his orders on Aranka. The pain of command, lone decisions that might haunt you for years, she seems to have gotten a portion of that on her tour, unsurprising considering its length and the intensity of an undercover mission.

"Oh dear, we all have been in such situations," he mutters. "We _know_." Not that she really listens, now that her story is pouring out, blandly recited as if she'd learned the text from someone else.

"When that woman in the neighborhood threatened to blow my cover, they gave me an hour to decide if I want to get pulled or if I want to get her out of the way. I'd only been there for four weeks and all had gone well up to that point, I couldn't just run, so I asked for the poison. It looked like heart failure and she was an old woman, nobody was suspicious but I _knew_. I felt dirty and like I'd lost something permanently, and everyone would see that on my face, everyone would see my guilt." Her hand turns into a fist, pressing against his side. "I thought I was better than them. I was so proud I'd never resigned to their methods, and now I've done that and killed someone and I'm just as bad and sick as any of them." Words fail her momentarily, and she just presses against him in quiet pain. Jim's not sure who exactly she's talking about, the killers of her family or the gangs in that refuge camp, but he can imagine what a terrible blow her self-image must've been taken over her action.

"And then there was suddenly the perfect opening for extending the mission into something much bigger than a small training tour," she mutters against his shoulder, "and I couldn't say no because I wanted to make the best of it. I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to be a hero like you all. Wanted to prove that I'm worth something, not just a stupid little cadet who fucks her way up the ranks."

Pressing his lips together, Jim fights down the bile rising in his throat as he comfortingly rubs her back. Even just by starting that thing with Chris well into his captaincy, there had been people making the same accusations behind his back, so of course she'd taken the full blunt here. Bones had so been right when he'd warned Jim not to take all of it so lightly. He'd looked at it from the perspective of cadet Jim Kirk, son of George Kirk, easy-going daredevil, top notch wiz kid in almost anything he's interested in, and always ready for a little fistfight when people pissed on his boots, not from her very different perspective. He might've felt like an outsider but he'd been it far less than he'd thought, while her situation had probably been worse than she'd ever told any of them.

"It was a good mission, right? Successful?" Not that it helps a lot, as her success is known only to a handful of people, her academy peers all believing the extremely lame cover story Intel had written for her, which makes Jim extra annoyed on her behalf. But _she_ needs to remember her personal success in this, not just the fallout.

"Yes." She looks at him, the patterns morphed by her sad smile. "It gave them the information they'd hoped for. It gave them everything and more. It just feels as if I paid with my soul. The happiness I'd found with Christopher… just when I thought life changed for the better, I ruined it all."

"You didn't ruin it all, Dael. You'll get it back. _You_ made sure that he'll be back with us."

"But he's not here yet, is he?" she whispers. "It wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough."

"He's not here yet, but he'll be here soon, you know that. And you did a great job." Jim cradles her head. "I can imagine how guilty you feel. I've been in similar situations. You remember Aranka? I almost lost Bones, literally, and then for many weeks, I lost him in my life. He just wasn't there because I had made a mistake, ruined too much between us by just one order because I was a damn fool, and I couldn't simply go back and fix it, I had to find a way to heal us. We've gone through a lot of other critical situations, and he's still with me, despite it all. Because we know that we'll both make wrong decisions once in a while, and sometimes even with open eyes because we can't decide any other way."

The trembling in her body subsides over his monologue, her eyes looking a little less haunted. He slowly exhales, noting how the tension in his own limbs diminishes.

"And you didn't make a wrong decision. You aren't guilty of anything but trying to make the best of your abilities, just as Chris always wanted. He never blamed you for what happened, or did he?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"And he better not do that," Jim states. It would have sounded accusing a week ago, but he's suddenly more ready to forgive Chris, now that his own moments of failure are fresh in front of his mind again. "Piling blame on anyone, including oneself, doesn't help solve the problems at hand one bit."

Dael suddenly smiles a little. "So you'll forgive Leonard for not sharing the recording?"

Jim snorts, then sighs. "Guess I have to, don't I? Unless I get first place in Advanced Hypocrisy. I still think it'll do us some good to talk about it when he's back but yeah, I shouldn't have let that smolder for so long."

She nods. "And you need to forgive yourself, for not meeting the standards you set for yourself." She runs one fingertip over his bottom lip. "Those incredibly high standards of being the best and most understanding man, always."

He purses his lips. "I don't think I could do that."

She wordlessly, serenely runs her hand over all of his face, caressing him for a while before saying, "Thank you, Jim. For everything. You're really someone special." Her lips find his in a kiss. "My beautiful lover."

He sags into her touch with a sigh, pulling her close into an embrace and caressing her in return until a long-searched, wonderful feeling of peace settles in him.

"Let us go home," Dael says at last, and they dress up and leave the room together. When they pass the kitchen, Dael pulls him into the doorframe. Arissa stands near a table, a woman unknown to Jim seated next to her and checking them out with a curious gaze.

Arissa draws close, briefly gazing at their laced hands before looking at Dael. "Everything all right?" she asks her first, without acknowledging Jim.

"Yes," Dael says softly, and answers Arissa's hug with one arm. "Everything's fine."

"Remember my words," Arissa then addresses Jim, with more than a little sharpness in her voice, and he nods. "Yes, sir," he says gravely. "I've got every intention of taking better care of her. All of us will take better care of each other."

"Good." Her serious face smoothes into light amusement. "Out with you. Got better things to do today with my bedroom than lending it to the Pike tribe." Giving Dael's shoulder a last nudge, she turns back into the kitchen, leaving them to find their way out alone.

"Guess I've got to be thankful she let me keep my head," Jim says when they're out on the street, running his hand over his neck.

Dael leans against him. "She eats little boys for breakfast, didn't you know?" she whispers before nipping at his earlobe, and he laughs, feeling lighter than he's felt for a long time.

***

For once, it's Leonard who's drop dead tired and could have slept for far longer, but there's someone all over his body, kissing, licking, rubbing, teasing, not heading his mumbled complains about _captains who fuck hell don't know when to let their lovers rest_.

And that is fine, more than fine, absolutely super-fine.

Slowly turning from his stomach to his back, he spreads his legs in an unambiguous offer, and they're halfway into serious things when Chris says, "Wait a moment," slipping from the bed and searching something on the table on the other side of the room. When he returns, Leonard can't make out what's in his hand.

Chris kneels down over his lower body, knees left and right of him. "One of Dael's felt pens," he says and uncaps the fat little black marker. "There's something we need to get clear." Leonard cranes his neck as Chris writes something on his chest in bold strokes.

"What did you write?" he asks as Chris caps the pen and puts it aside before running two strong hands over his chest, fingertips gliding along lines invisible to Leonard.

"I wrote," Chris says and starts to the very right of Leonard's chest, underlining every word across it with his touch. " _PROPERTY OF JIM_. Because that's what you are, doc. That's your core, always will be." Chris leans forward, putting kisses all over Leonard's throat, easing his way up his chin and forehead to end on his lips.

"Chris…" Leonard whimpers a little, his chest constricted from the sudden onslaught of emotions for which he hadn't been prepared.

"I know you love me, as I love you. You're the most wonderful man I know and I'll always be there for you when you need me, and if I can." Chris smiles a little self-consciously. "Which hasn't been the case very often lately, but I intend to improve on that. In any case —" he puts two fingers on Leonard's lips, stopping him from disagreeing. "I want you to know that I _know_ where you truly belong, and that you don't have to choose, ever, because there's nothing to choose between to begin with." He resumes the kissing, now along Leonard's eyebrows and temple.

"The two of you have been tired out by your joint missions, by your everyday routines and living more closely than has been good at times. It took this separation to remember the good times."

Leonard's eyes are closed by now, and he feels fingers stroking through his hair, can almost feel those wonderful eyes on his skin. It's true, Jim and he had lost some of that _loving feeling_ of their first years, and after a while he hadn't always known whether their relationship was worth the pain that it also caused at times, the tensions over failed missions, the continuous efforts of picking up each other's pieces. It had taken this vacation with Chris to find that yes, he loves Chris a damn lot, but it's no longer the _amour fou_ it had been over the last months, when he'd been caught between that gut-wrenching recording and the not-knowing if they ever would be able to find out how good they could be together.

They are good, no doubt about it, but they're also good with the others — _their_ significant others. Plural, no less.

Leonard opens his eyes, engaging Chris' intense gaze.

"Give me the pen," he says, and Chris complies without asking. "I love you, Chris. More than I can put into words," Leonard says and runs his free hand across the chest of his lover, still sexy muscles covered by grey curls. Aside of Jim, nobody had ever been able to turn him to mush like Chris could, and nobody had challenged him more to turn tables and break through to the sides nobody else saw, and they'll always have a special place in each other lives. "But this… this is also true."

He uncaps the marker and writes, just as bold, on Chris' upper chest, from shoulder to shoulder like a garland, _OWNED BY DAEL_. Chris' lids drop half close upon his action, his lover's breathing deep and tense.

He secures the felt pen and throws it away. "You're Dael's, Chris. I didn't want to see that at first. I was dead jealous and I wondered if one of you is just using the other, in whatever direction. But you're there for each other like Jim and I are. You are picking up each other's pieces if need be, but you also take care that neither of you overdoes it." Chris hangs his head as if wanting to hide his face, and Leonard buries his hands into the unusually long blond-grey curls, massaging the skin beneath. "You're so damn good together, and even though you'd rather bite your tongue than to say it, I know you miss her really badly, and she misses you."

Chris lowers his forehead against Leonard's solar plexus. It gives Leonard room to massage along tense shoulder blades.

"We all belong together," Chris says muffled at last. "That's when we're really the best." Unfurling from his crouched position, he faces Leonard. "I bought rings with Dael."

"I know," Leonard replies, having gotten that particular tidbit relayed by John.

"I've bought _four_ rings."

"Oh." Leonard's heart leaps. "I didn't know that."

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Chris says. "Only Dael and John knew. Of course, it's just an offer…" There's a hint of unease back.

"Idiot," Leonard grouches instantly and ruffles his lover's mane, glad to see the insecurity merge into a small smirk.

"Come here." He pulls Chris into a kiss, sweeping his tongue inside the welcoming mouth and plundering it until Chris is moaning under his onslaught. They've said enough. They'd leave here soon, with a _horse_ in tow no less, and everything is clear and straightened out for now. Which leaves a few days where they can make love without second thoughts or lingering concerns.

Chris seems to share his idea, as one warm hand teasingly starts stroking his growing hard-on.

"You may be Jim's, but as I've been allowed to borrow you for a while, might as well make sure you've got a good time," his lover whispers into his ear before pulling away and kneeling between Leonard's spread legs. "Might as well make this the vacation you deserve." A last sparkling gaze from bright eyes, then Chris leans forward and fully engulfs his member with that sexy mouth. Leonard arches from the mattress, blindly grabbing the sheets to get a hold onto something, as his world tilts and wavers and much too soon comes crashing down in a wonderful, mind-blowing orgasm.

***

Dael finishes the Intelligence project and doesn't intend to work for them in the near future, that's all she tells Jim about that. She's not sure what else to do with her current spare time, doesn't want to make a decision either regarding his suggestion to help him with the _Enterprise_ refit, at least not before Chris is back with them. Of the eight academy courses she could attend online, she passes five, which would make the final year, should she choose to finish her Command track, a lot less stressful than normal.

Jim finally tears himself away from the _Enterprise_ planning, after Scotty and Uhura threatened to abduct him and Dael and deliver them to a remote mountain reservoir without a communicator, and decides to take that vacation rather on his own initiative.

"Ever climbed a mountain?" he asks Dael over dinner in one of their favorite restaurants, a small bar with a broad offer of Federation specialties and an absolute _no press_ rule.

"No?" is her cautious reply, her eyebrows raised cutely.

"Would you go rock-climbing with me?" he asks. "I'll be careful, I swear," he adds with his palm above his heart.

She seriously ponders the question for a moment. "Okay."

When they're back home, it takes Jim a few minutes to find the number of Yushi Hirayama in the depth of his PADD, half an hour to book the house, rent a jeep and arrange the beam-out, and ten minutes to pack.

She falls asleep on the drive from the beam point to the cabin, and he carefully pulls his jacket over her.

They have a fabulous time together.

***

Ashaire's new place will be on the former farm of Chris' parents. Leonard can see that it takes Chris a lot of effort to make that phone call to the owner Harms, despite knowing the man for twenty years. His hand holding the comm is veritably shaking, dark stains on the back of his shirt signaling his breaking sweat. But it gets better with every passing minute, and when he closes the line, there's both relief and pride on his face, his other hand curled into a light, victorious fist.

"Great work," Leonard says, encircling him from behind and nipping a kiss at his neck, which starts another round of sex that would delay their packing plans, but they've got their priorities straight — no time pressure.

"It's incredible how much stuff I've got piled here," Chris says two hours later, holding his back in a grimace of pain while sweeping one hand over three jammed suitcases.

"You could've used their relocation service," Leonard reminds him, nodding towards his own small bag. He doesn't comment on the fact that quite a few items in Chris' suitcases are Dael's, all of them carefully wrapped and stashed away by Chris in almost meditative silence.

"No," Chris says. "I need to do this… need to get this feeling of closure." There's a strange expression on his face. "Always packed my own quarters, though there usually wasn't much. Packed my old apartment too, which was a lot more work. The longest I ever packed…" He falls silent.

Leonard waits with baited breath, feeling that whatever Chris thinks about is important and needs to be said. Chris's gaze wanders through the room.

"The longest I ever packed was the house of my parents. Not that I took a lot, just a few pieces, some more stuff is stored in a corner of Harms' stables. But I went through everything, wondering…"

"Wondering what?"

"Wondering if they really were the people they appeared to be. Wondering if I'd find anything that would tell me something new about them, something that would change my opinion about them." Chris smiles sadly. "There was nothing, of course. And to this day, I'm not sure whether I was relieved or shocked about that."

"Why?"

"Relieved that at least to themselves, they've obviously led the life they wanted to. Shocked that it's been the way it has been, limited and small-minded, never really living up to the potential they could've had."

Leonard nods. "If someone searched your apartment…"

"In the old one, they would've found that I've led a rather bleak personal life. Maybe not much different to theirs, in a way." Running one hand through his curly hair, Chris pauses. "It's different now."

"Better, I hope," Leonard says throatily.

"Better, yes. Despite it all… better." Drawing close, Chris captures Leonard's hand, lifting it to his lips for a tender kiss. "I've learned what being in love means. What happy means. Just need to get a hold on the matter of being _unhappy_. Right?" Their eyes lock, grey-blue eyes begging for confirmation.

"Right, and you'll do just fine," Leonard says and takes his lover into a tight hold, pretending not to feel him trembling.

***

It's good that Bones calls them well in advance, so that they've got some days in preparation before the two will hit San Francisco. However, it also throws them into a kind of loop, toggling between moments of intense occupation (cleaning the apartment, getting rid of a few duties they don't want to steal their time for the days after the arrival) and moments of quiet connection, where they curl together, sometimes making love, sometimes just staying close.

Dael redecorates her formerly so cold room, not quite as extensively as Arissa's abundant private chamber but with soft carpets, pillows, quilts, and two walls painted in a brown-red-gold pattern. Some of the shopping they do together, and Jim is blissfully happy every time she asks about his opinion on anything, despite absolutely having no eye for interior decoration. It's the feeling of being included into her life, of being _allowed_ , that makes everything feel different and better.

He's also really curious what Chris will say about the changes.

Then day X comes and they're waiting, more than a little tense, for the arrival of the other half of the cloverleaf. Despite the now more regular communication with Bones, Jim isn't sure what to expect and is involuntarily preparing himself for receiving a blow… of whatever kind.

 _Better safe than sorry._

Dael sits hunched on the couch, pretending to read something on her PADD but her eyes stray aside in thoughts every so often, and a small, worried frown perpetually tugs at her forehead tattoos.

"Hey," he says and flops down next to her, making the cushion bounce. "It's going to be all right."

Her serious gaze drifts over to him, arching one rather Vulcan eyebrow at him. "It's always good to know a fortune teller."

He pulls her into an embrace. "Just trying to be my sunny self." He nuzzles his nose against her cheek, and feels her relaxing against him. The relaxation dies as the door bell rings, an alert that the others are about to come in. They jump to their feet and walk into the corridor side by side.

"Hey, lovers," Bones says as he walks through the door first. He's dressed in a wildly colored shirt and white shorts, with longer hair than usual framing his sunburned face. Jim holds his breath as their eyes meet — and Bones' face draws into a bright smile without hesitation, marvelous and adorable.

Holy shit, he'd needed to see that.

Then Bones turns and invitingly waves his hand, and Chris comes in.

Something clenches in Jim's chest as he sees the man who's so special to him, mentor, kind of father figure, lover. He's not really prepared for the increased grey, the deepened crinkles, the less-than-relaxed posture. But the gaze from ice-blue eyes is clear as it comes to rest on him, and despite his original intention to give Dael that first moment, Jim makes a step forward.

"Jim…" Chris breathes and opens his arms. They fall into an embrace that leaves them both shaking from its emotional intensity, so missed, so needed.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Chris utters in a stream, and Jim shakes his head because right now this _so_ isn't the point. When they draw apart, there's moisture in Chris' eyes and Jim blinks too, pulling away after a last, strong hold of his hands on Chris' hips.

"Jimmy-boy," Bones mutters and pulls him into a bear hug, leaving no room for Jim to complain that he doesn't like that diminutive and well, maybe it's not true at this moment. He readily opens his mouth when Bones kisses him, welcoming the well-known lips, feeling his heart leap on the long-missed touch. After all those years, Bones still makes him weak in his knees like no one else.

"Let's go get a room," Bones says hushed.

Jim nods and pulls out of the hug, momentarily looking around for Dael and Chris to check whether they're fine. They're in a tight embrace, and from the looks on their faces they're both about to fall apart any second, definitely not something they'd want any spectators for.

"Yeah," he answers quietly and takes Bones' hand to lead them to their room.

"Looks even better than I remember," Bones says appreciating when they're inside. "Last time, I was in such a hurry to pick up things…"

"This is home, Bones. Our home," Jim says. That's what it's become to him over the last weeks and he hopes with all his might that it will remain like this after today. "I added a little decoration, hope you don't mind." Including a prominent shot of the _Enterprise_ on the wall, because he likes to have _all_ his loved ones nearby.

"I don't mind at all." Then Bones is all over him, touching and kissing him, soon landing them on the bed in a heap of naked limbs. Jim melts under the erotic onslaught, the way Bones caresses him — partly driven and determined with strong, claiming touches, partly reverently and in adoration as if he were something precious and fragile. But no matter how exactly he touches him, there's that incredible love shining in his eyes.

The romance of the moment gets a little shaken when Bones grabs the lube and mutters, "I'll make you dance on my cock, Jim, will have you until you can't walk anymore."

Jim laughs, then whimpers as a first finger enters him; between his rekindled sex drive and his desperate need for Bones, he's so hard and aching already, and any further words by his wonderful man only make it worse.

"God, yes, Bones, do it, need you so much," he moans, offering his body. "Come on."

Bones is in him so fast and still not fast enough; he grabs his legs behind his knees and pulls them up as far as he can, giving Bones all the room to lean over him and fuck him through the mattress.

"So needy," Bones mutters breathlessly, holding his movements for a moment to lavish his face with kisses. "Didn't you get fucked enough?"

"Not by you," Jim gasps. "Want you, Bones, always." He moans as his lover hits his prostate, evoking that strange, hot feeling the makes him tingle and shiver.

"Want you too, Jim. Want to see you come on my cock, beg for it…" True to his words, Bones gives him one of those long, intense rides that has him pleading in the end, half mad from his mind-blowing arousal. It takes only a few aimed pushes before he erupts all over his chest, and Bones follows seconds later with a strangled, victorious laugh. For a while they just lie in the mess, cuddling and kissing, muttering sweet nothings into each other's ears.

When they've finally cleaned up, Bones curls around him, covering him with his strong body, and it feels oh so good.

"Missed you, Bones," Jim says, carding through the unusually long hair. "Love you."

"Love you too. Love you so much."

"Sometimes I feared…" Jim says softly.

"…that I'd leave you? No way," Bones says. "I won't deny that Chris is damn special to me, and being able to spend more time with him was great. Though I would've preferred to do that under other conditions," he adds wistfully. "But he's not you, and I found that I really don't want to live without your cracktastic ideas and the way you brighten my life with your smile and… dammit." Bones stops and reaches out for a tissue, cleaning his nose noisily in an obvious cover-up before curling around Jim again.

"Besides, Chris is a lot more in love with Dael than he's ever ready to admit. That's why we're here so soon."

"I wondered about that," Jim says. "You sure he's ready yet…?"

"There's no guarantee but he's quite determined to make the next steps. It will take a while and he's going to need quite a bit of therapy, but this time around he seems to be ready to accept that."

"And Starfleet?"

"I have no idea. He's still on medical leave, and he's never said anything about resigning, so — no clue."

Jim ponders the thought for a moment; Chris wouldn't need to get back to work, but he's rather sure that their lover isn't cut out for twiddling his thumbs on a farm either, horse or not... Pushing this thought away for now, he brings up something that had stuck with him for a while now.

"Say — this older lover of Chris at the Academy —"

"You mean, that asshole of instructor that regularly used the loneliness and need for a positive father figure to get into the pants of young, promising cadets? What about him?"

"Whoa," Jim says, rolling to the side and propping his head onto one hand. "I wouldn't have said it quite like that, but I guess you've got a point."

Bones grunts. "At least that's how I see the guy."

"Chris spoke rather highly about him in that one recording," Jim reminds him. "And the guy bequeathed him the club, so it seems as if they've had a deep connection."

"It's been thirty years since then. I bet he's readily forgotten the unpleasant details. Who do you think gave him the idea that bodily punishment would make better cadets?"

"Well…" Jim smirks.

Bones gives him a deathly glare. "Back then, before the whipping and you subsequently jumping me -"

"— we jumped _each other_ ," Jim protests.

"Before that, you were really unhappy with the situation. You hated it. I hated it. It could've really fucked us up. Maybe it did. I wasn't into kinky shit before that."

Jim swallows hard, sitting up on the bed. "So what, it's been all wrong what we did after that? All — _sick_?" It's been the start of their relationship, after all, and hearing Bones' thoughts rattles his core.

"Hell, no," Bones quickly says and sits up, grabbing Jim's hands. "I'm just saying — it opened a can of worms for me that might otherwise have remained closed. Now imagine Chris — young, lonely, his career the one big goal in his life, with nothing but a few sexual, secret encounters in his past, being taken under the wings of an impressive officer who supports him instead of… well, the authoritative asshole his father seems to have been."

Jim nods thoughtfully. "So, when that commander looked like offering an authoritative, _positive_ figure to lean one…"

"…it was damn easy to manipulate Chris into getting it on with him. And while an outing of the affair would've ruined the man's career, it would undoubtedly have damaged Chris' reputation too. Now think of yourself, Jim, how much you would've sacrificed to get through the Academy in light speed."

Jim nods again. "Like sacrificing my ass to a beating by Captain Pike in a shady cellar and never speaking a word about it. Come to think of it —" he smiles self-consciously — "if Chris had taken me up on my various explicit offers back then, I probably wouldn't have said no."

"I'm not saying the man forced him, but there'd been a big dose of manipulation in the game. A relationship with a large power difference and him on the weaker side, and now…"

"Now he has similar relationships but on the other side. At least, that's where we started."

"Yes." Bones nods. "He's an essentially good guy, so he reigned in his abusive behavior after I called him on his shit. However, in a way he took it onto the next level — started a relationship with a cadet and made it official."

"You think he's bad for her?"

Bones shakes his head. "There's no black and white here. He's not bad for her. I'm still not sure he's always good for her either. They've got cracks underneath, both of them, and more similarities than they consciously register. A part of me still thinks they should've never gotten together, but on the other hand — they work fine together, and he really supports her and gives her space and stays far away from trying to manipulate her, I think. And she's growing up and finding her own strength, making her own decisions. And they love each other, no doubt about it."

"I agree." Jim smiles. "She loves him a lot. We'd had a great time together, but at the end of the day, she wants a quiet place to curl up and feel secure. And for that, she'd always rather turn to Chris than to me."

"Cracks," Bones says dryly.

"No more than we have."

Bones rolls his eyes. "You told me she's gone through a special therapy program on Vulcan. I bet she's got cracks as deep as the Antimatter canon, but someone put up some force fields."

"That's how you see her?" Jim says, throat suddenly dry. "Then how do you see me, Bones? How about my cracks?"

"Aw, Jim," Bones mutters and slings his arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. "You had more time to fix yourself. She's such a kid, and Chris and she haven't had the years yet that it took us to deal with the past."

"Dael is about the same age as when I joined the academy," Jim says fiercely, the flurry of concerns in his stomach spiking with sudden, strong annoyance. "Hell, if we're all such nutcases, why don't you go and find someone better to love, someone whole," he churns out and tries to shake Bones' hand off.

"Dammit, Jim. That's not what I meant. God knows I've got my own history to deal with." Bones cradles his head, not letting him walk away. "I love you, Jim, and you know I'll fly to the end of the universe with you, because I know that you know yourself. I've seen behind the mask of your crazy clown moments and I loved what I saw. I love the man with and without the mask."

Jim finally manages to draw away and slips down from the bed, getting on his feet. "Fine. That's still not an answer. The way you talk about Chris and Dael makes them sound like cracked. _Beyond treatable_. That's what one shrink wrote in my file. You see them like that — you see _me_ like that!"

Bones jumps up from the bed, closing his hands around Jim's upper arms with strength. "Nobody said anything about untreatable. But for Chris the shit hit the fan and he's going to need therapy, and from what I've learned about him so far it's going to be a rocky ride that will bring up a bunch of things from his past. And Dael isn't really settled yet — yes, she's of the same age as you back then, but remember yourself, Jim, you regularly got into fistfights and drunken bar brawls. You weren't the man you are now." Bones pulls him close, tightly wrapping his arms around him.

"Today, you're a great man. I'm so proud of you, of the way you handled the admiralty in that conflict. You made such an impression, on so many — Lord knows my message box was flooded with supportive messages, and yours was too. You've become a big name, and rightfully so." Jim shudders as Bones puts kisses on his face. "A great man, Jim, and I'm proud to be your husband."

Jim's sudden, strange outburst deflates like mousse taken out of the oven too fast, leaving nothing like a huff of air. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I just… fuck."

"Come back to bed, kid," Bones says softly.

"Thought I'm your great man," Jim retorts, but the edge is gone, and he follows the lead of the hand that pulls him back onto the mattress.

"Great kid," Bones whispers and kisses him, slipping his tongue between Jim's lips. The anger of a moment before turns into arousal as their hips rock against each other, and true to the rumor that make-up sex is the best sex, they come hard and quick with joined hands on their dicks. The whole thing — the discussion and the orgasm — leaves them exhausted and sleepy.

"Love you, Jim. Never doubt that," Bones says, molding against him in a protective embrace.

"I don't," Jim answers sleepily, but his head is still spinning a little and one question keeps lingering. "You know, considering what you think Chris' background is, how did he make the great captain he's been?"

He can feel Bones' smile against his shoulder. "You of all people should know that it's not just the past events that make a man, but the way he deals with them. He learned to keep his emotions absolutely in check, hide every weakness and eat up the shit like nobody's business. That's great with a crew that needs that demonstrative strength but it wears thin in personal relationships, when he lets people behind that tough shell."

That's the point Jim keeps ending with, and he doesn't like it one bit. "So we ruined his life, didn't we?"

"Stop being so dramatic, Jim." Bones mutters. "The turning point was the _Narada_ , which was more than he could handle. You know how his career stalled after that and that he'd gone into some kind of inner resignation. Our relationship brought him out of that so that he accepted Nogura's offer. That pushed everything into motion, sure, but he wasn't really better off before that."

"But not as bad either."

"He had quite a good time in between despite his increasing health problems, and he's explicitly stated that he's quite _happy_ at the moment. I doubt that in the past, he'd even really understood what that word could mean. I wish he'd been able to take a time-out without breaking down for it but I think one day he'll look back and say that it's been a good thing. It's been the rock-bottom he didn't allow himself after the _Narada_ , when he thought he could just carry on." Bones strokes his back. "He'll be fine, I think — he's really recovering well, and now we're here and all looking out for him."

"For as long as we're here," Jim says, thinking of their schedule. He'd tried to imagine taking a ground posting, had even gone as far as tentatively checking some out but he'd rather not do that now, with Nogura in opposition. On his ship, he's the captain; on Earth, he'd be nothing but an Admiral's minion.

"While we're here, and for the foreseeable future." Bones yawns. "I'm really done. Let's go to sleep, Jim."

*

When they leave their room in the late afternoon, the apartment is silent, the door to Chris' and Dael's bedroom closed. They go to the kitchen, for a coffee and a check of the fridge. With the stocks Jim and Dael had purchased, they're able to get lasagna together, which is in the oven when Dael joins them. She looks a little thrown together as she pads into the kitchen bare-footed, with mussed hair and dressed in one of Chris' shirts that's long enough to cover her like a night gown. She also has a sweet glow on her face.

"Going to take a shower in a minute," she says apologizing. "Christopher is asleep. Just wanted to say… glad you're here." She wraps one arm around Bones, and he pulls her into an embrace. "Thanks, Leonard," she whispers, pressing her face against his shoulder as she clutches him tightly.

"Thank _you_ , Dael, you did a fabulous job," Bones mutters, placing a kiss on her forehead. The sight makes Jim so happy, he joins them and wraps his arms around both, hugging and kissing them.

"Dammit, you're turning me into a heap of mush," Bones grouches, sniffling as they part. Dael wipes her face with one hand, then says, "We'll join you soon."

"No need to hurry, it'll take at least twenty more minutes," Jim says after a glance at the timer. She nods with a smile and vanishes.

Jim leans against Bones with a relieved sigh. "Looks like everything's going to be all right."

Bones tousles his hair. "Don't you ever doubt it! You're our resident optimist, what would we do if you ever lost your faith in us."

"No idea, Bones, no idea," Jim says solemnly.

*******


End file.
